Purpose
by Dinasis
Summary: Consequence of Choice #4: Purpose. Life was never meant to be static. We can only change our situation, or let it change us in response. BMWW.
1. Time

**Author's Note:** It begins! Or continues... You know, however you'd prefer to think of it. Purpose is fourth in line for my ongoing first-person Justice League series, chronologically following Anchor, Respond, and Branches. As always, character ownership goes to DC Comics.

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I'm not exactly sure where the thought came from, but it occurs to me that almost without me realizing it, my nightly patrols have been getting shorter and shorter. I'm letting myself rely more and more on Tim and Barbara. I'm trusting them to lighten my burden, just as they've asked and offered for years.

I've always known I'd have to slow down, that I'd need to take it a little easier in order to simply keep going, to keep Batman in the minds of Gotham's criminal underworld. So, while I of course still patrol Gotham each night, I've gradually started my patrols later and later in the evening. I leave Tim and Barbara in charge of Gotham until I join them a little while before midnight each night. Our respective shifts still overlap, but only for a few hours after I take to the city instead of the better part of each night.

I haven't kept a precise schedule, instead occasionally beginning my patrols earlier and periodically ending them later in the early morning. If nothing else, that helps to keep Arkham's regulars from noticing my pattern. And, of course, if something happens that Tim or Barbara can't handle on their own, I suit up to help.

And why? The answer is not my health. Instead, it's for the woman beside me on the sofa. It's all on account of Diana, though not directly. Time I've allocated for our dinner dates has become routinely ours, giving way to evening plans that have only become more frequent with my more open schedule. Through it all, she has never once asked me to delay my patrols. I appreciate her all the more for that.

Truthfully, it's what I've been wary of for years. Isley's pheromone-laden plant-people proved to me yet again what I've always known: that love and happiness distract from the mission. I would be lying to myself saying the same isn't true with Diana now so important a part of my life. But the happiness we've found in each other and freely express is intoxicating.

I don't fight it anymore. I haven't for months. My oldest friend opened my eyes—eyes too long focused on the darkness in this world—to the _reason_ people are happy, the reason my parents were happy. I've always cared deeply for this world and its inhabitants. Now, I fight to protect my own happiness and theirs, not just the safety of the city I've taken into my care.

I turn my head to my left, my eyes panning across the manor's expansive library, skipping quickly across my surroundings before finally slowing to a stop when my vision is filled by the gorgeous image of the woman of my affections. To the world, she is their Wonder Woman. To Batman, she is a strong, valuable ally. To Bruce Wayne, she is Diana. Undeniable, irreplaceable. A well of strength and trust, a source of light in my darkness-ruled life.

She lifts her right hand from her book, sweeps a few errant locks of her hair back into place behind her ear. She glances over as she lowers her hand back to her book, notices me looking at her. She turns her head and smiles. I can feel the pull at my cheeks, the shifting of my own lips as I return it.

"Something wrong, Bruce?" Her tone is quiet, light with humor.

"No, of course not," I answer softly.

"Well, so long as I have your attention…" After trailing off, Diana leans a little closer. I note the meaning of her hands, still relaxedly holding her book, and lean in. I kiss her as soon as I'm close enough. She hums her approval against my mouth and I give her the lead in our short dance of lips. She kisses me back for just as long as I had before grasping my lower lip between hers and giving it a quick, gentle squeeze.

She pulls away and we share an affectionate smile. I spend an extra moment looking her over as she sits straight again and returns her attention to her book. Her dress is casual, even more so than mine. I have my daily work clothes on, the tan suit my employees and colleagues at Wayne Enterprises are so familiar with. Diana is wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black tee-shirt.

The fact first struck me as odd, but there's something about her relaxedness that calms me. I try my best to thank her with every kiss, every embrace, and every time we take each other's hands. I occasionally put my gratitude into words, too, but…I suppose I'm still not as strong with them as I could be.

I hear a throat being cleared off to my right and begin turning my head as Diana lifts her gaze to look as well. We look to find Alfred standing just inside the library's entrance. "Very sorry to disturb you both, but there's a call for you, Master Bruce."

I relax in my seat and close my eyes and my book. I give a sigh of less than serious exasperation and ask no one in particular, "What good is it to disconnect the phone if people can still just call and ask for me?"

"I apologize again, Master Bruce. You of course know that I take no joy in interrupting your time together. I assumed it was simply a matter of technical difficulty with the phone."

In lieu of any sort of verbal admonishment, Diana makes judicious use of her right elbow to give me a quick jab in my left side. After letting out a short, quiet grunt in response, I open my eyes and look up to my oldest friend with the understanding I'd already planned on showing. "It's alright, Alfred. I'm sorry for making you come all the way out here instead of just transferring the call."

I stand up and look to Diana, who gives me a quick nod of approval. I set my book down as if to save my seat and cross the room to the desk. I give a little exhale of annoyance and crouch down, fetching the end of the phone cord from the floor. I plug it back into the phone and, almost immediately, it lights up.

I pick up the receiver and turn back towards Alfred. "Incidentally, who's calling?"

"Miss Lane, sir."

My eyes widen briefly with my surprise, the action involuntarily. I immediately look to Diana. She gives me a short, stern glance in warning the moment she sees that she has my eyes. It fades quickly and she turns back to her book.

I turn back to the phone and reach out to press the button for the active line. "Bruce Wayne."

"Bruce. Lois. Glad I caught you while you're home."

"Is something the matter?"

"Yes. Well, no, I just wanted to get some advice."

"Advice? I'm afraid I'm at a bit of a loss as to what sort of advice I could offer you, Lois."

"Well…the thing is I can't keep myself from thinking back to that interview with you and Wonder Woman." Lois pauses to sigh. "Seeing what you have—even just that tiny glimpse—was sort of eye-opening. The more I think about it, the more sick and tired I am of Superman pulling my butt out of the fire when I need it—yes, I know I certainly need his help, though I'd like to think it's not _always_ my fault—and then just leaving things as they are.

"You're making things work with Wonder Woman, right? Alright, I guess I don't need to ask that. After all, the two of you are certainly doing a good job keeping all the gossip columnists busy whenever you go out in public."

I can't help but smirk. "Lois, by any chance, are you—"

"Envious! Let's say envious. It doesn't sound as negative…" Lois pauses again. "How do you think I could get him to open up to me again?"

She doesn't give me much time to answer, switching tracks slightly and continuing. I hear Lois beginning to tell me some ideas that she already came up with. Although not being intentionally rude, I don't pay much more attention to her because—and I can't explain why—my thoughts go back to the private LexCorp Airfield, where I landed when I first met Lois and Clark and where we later said our farewells. I remember what I told Kent. _'I suppose this is close enough to not being good to Lois.'_

A plan of action comes to me almost immediately. "Don't worry, Lois. I'll take care of it." I only realize halfway through that I'm interrupting her in mid-sentence.

"…Ok, that kind of scares me. I guess I shouldn't ask what you're planning, should I, Bruce?" I hear a throat pointedly clearing behind myself and I'm not entirely sure why I fail to heed it. "I have to admit, I feel a little better about this with you helping. And so long as I'm in the mood to talk, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for dumping you so abruptly and for letting my feelings linger so long. I can't imagine the knowledge has helped Diana any. I would have told you earlier, but you have a nasty habit of disappearing while people's backs are turned."

"It's fine, Lois. To be perfectly honest, I was taken off-guard by how quickly I fell for you as well."

Immediately, there's a hand on my left shoulder. From the moment I feel it, I know it belongs to Diana, a fact made clearer when she begins to squeeze. My legs soon weaken and begin to bend despite my willful attempts to keep them straight. I brace my left hand against the top of the desk to steady myself. I pull the receiver from my ear and turn it away to let loose a pained groan. When it passes, I bring the receiver back to my ear.

I decide to finish instead of appealing directly to Diana. "But even so, I had a nagging feeling that things wouldn't work out. I never could have stopped being who I am, even if I were to someday have had an infamously tenacious reporter for a wife." Somehow, I manage to mostly keep my voice even.

Luckily, the comment sates Diana. Her grip quickly relaxes and, for a few moments, she even rubs my shoulder apologetically before pulling her hand away. Meanwhile, Lois laughs. I know she's laughing about what I said, but for a brief instant, I entertain the thought that she is laughing at me, for folding so easily to Diana.

"Well," Lois begins once calm, "speaking as one such infamously tenacious reporter, I'd much rather have to do some real reporting legwork for the exposé on any responsible side to the elusive Mr. Wayne than have you screw up and let something slip. But how about now, Bruce? How is it with Diana?"

I look away from the desk, towards Diana. She lifts her arms from her sides when she sees me turn and tries to look displeased. Her expression shifts subtly as she crosses her arms below her bust to silently protest my talk of past romantic love, her anger becoming clearer.

In spite of her expression, I reach out with my open left hand. I hold it out in front of Diana and smile as warmly as I can manage. She looks down at my hand for a moment, leaning a little to her left, over her left foot. As her eyes come back up to mine, her expression shifts a second time, becoming an image of inquiring disbelief.

I stay still, ignoring Lois repeating my name in question so that I can hold the smile on my lips for that much longer. After another few breaths, Diana's expression falters. She closes her eyes as her face falls neutral. Her shoulders drop and her arms separate. She reaches down for my hand as she opens her eyes and smiles.

I feel the radiance of Diana's warmth against my hand and let no more time pass before answering Lois for Diana's benefit. "She knew all about me long before I ever thought of inviting her into my home."

"That's nice, Bruce." Sincerity; there's nothing sarcastic about the comment, rather it almost seems more openly envious than her earlier admission. "I'd like to be able to say similar about Superman and myself someday. Well, either with me inviting him here or with him inviting me to his home—unless it means that stupid fortress up near the North Pole. I can't imagine him _not_ having some sort of place to live in Metropolis—I mean, I doubt even _he_ can hear me screaming my head off from all the way up in the artic."

I nearly chuckle at where Lois' doubt lies. "Don't worry about it. You'll be able to say the same someday."

"Thanks, Bruce. This isn't the advice I was hoping for, but I do feel better about him."

"Oh... Well, would you like some advice?" I can't help myself from asking, turning my eyes towards the receiver. I make the question rhetorical, continuing without letting even a single breath pass. "If I've learned anything over the years, Lois, it's that superheroes are stubborn to a fault. Make use of it."

Lois laughs again. "Got another? You've already read me that line."

"Sorry. In that case I'm fresh out of advice."

"Alright." She chuckles. "I'll just have to take what I can get. Thanks again, Bruce."

"Of course. Good evening, Lois."

"Night."

I turn, lowering the receiver back onto its cradle. The moment I hang up, Diana breaks the momentary silence. "Should I feel complimented or insulted?"

I turn back to Diana, reach out with my newly freed hand and take hers. "_I_ should feel insulted. I was talking about myself."

She finally straightens, centering herself over her feet. "I can live with that," she replies perhaps a little too happily. I start to frown, but she pulls our hands out from between our bodies and swings her hands back behind herself, taking mine with them and pulling me closer.

Even if I wanted to resist, when she wants to be, she's stronger than I could ever hope to simply overpower. Fortunately, resistance isn't among my wildest thoughts. I lean the rest of the way, tightening my fingers over Diana's hands as I press my lips to hers. She wastes no time, responding and kissing back immediately. As we begin kissing at each other's lips, Diana's hands open. I take the hint and opportunity, turning my hands, keeping my palms on hers while I interlock our fingers.

We continue apace for nearly a minute before I feel Diana's hands begin to move. She pulls her hands free of mine and her hands begin traveling up my arms. I reach forward with my hands, looking to put my hands on her waist. I feel more pants than shirt and my eyes open as my lips still.

Diana's face is above mine. Somehow I had missed the slow, subtle shift as she lifted herself from the floor. She stops at my motionlessness and pulls away. I take a moment to look down and first see my hands are on her thighs. I then see that she's still only a scant few inches into the air and lift my gaze back to her face.

Her confusion gives way to an understanding smile and her hands leave me. A moment later, she rests her wrists on my shoulders, reaching back to place her left hand on the back of my head and her right from the top of my back to as high as my neck. I tip my head back, following her as she lifts herself higher.

She pulls herself close again and, between her arms, her breasts press against about the level of my collarbone. I lift my chin higher to meet her lips once more with my own. At the same time, I find the hem of her shirt and slip my fingers under it while lifting my hands to her waist.

Diana lets out a little hum of appreciation. I feel it from my lips and, I'd swear, all the way out to my fingers and toes. The gesture emboldens me and, as we take turns going after one another's lips, I slip my hands further upwards across Diana's skin, my thumbs on her sides, my fingers on her back, and my palms spanning the distance.

For a moment, I remember my surroundings. I fervently hope that Alfred is no longer in the room—I can't remember noticing him at all after I picked up the phone. If I had more time, I'd probably remember the favor he's shown Diana and myself, the respect for our privacy and the lengths he's gone to protect us from interruption. If not for Diana planting a playful kiss on the end of my nose, I'd also probably wonder about the oddity of him bothering to relay Lois' phone call at all.

I find my eyes drawn to the alluring beauty of Diana's lips for as long as they're within view. It isn't long before I can't help myself and reach out to kiss her again. She gives another hum, although this time it's a muffled, almost sultry chuckle. I spend a moment thinking about what—aside from our lips drawn together by our passion—she might happy about.

It only takes that one moment for it to hit me. I pull my lips away. "Diana—" She interrupts me with another kiss and I return it long enough to briefly capture the velvety softness of each of her lips. "you know I still—" Another kiss and with both of us more than willing to participate. "have to say it."

I lower my hands beneath Diana's shirt until they are again just above the waistline of her pants, letting my hands continue to bask in her warmth. At that, Diana relents. Her expression falls and she moves back a little, her hips and legs staying mostly against me, but leaning her upper body away and letting her arms fall until her hands come to rest on my shoulders.

"I have to go see Kent."

"Kal?" Confusion colors her words and her gorgeous, sable-framed visage. "Why?"

"I have to make good on an old promise."

"To Lois?" Clear disapproval.

"No. To Clark."

"You aren't going to tell me more than that, are you?"

"Sorry." My apology is heartfelt, I leave no room for doubt of that. _'I just don't think you would approve of my plan.'_

She tips her head forward and closes her eyes. I tip my head closer as well, watching her, letting our foreheads come together gently before I close my own eyes. Some of her hair comes loose from behind her ears. I feel the errant hairs begin to rub against my face before stilling while Diana meanwhile sighs. "Alright, fine."

She doesn't move for a moment and I know she is looking for more to say. "Well, if I can't keep you from going, I hope you don't mind me asking you to hurry back."

"Not at all, Diana."

"Good. Come back quickly enough and I might just spend tonight in that lovely bedroom Alfred prepared for me."

I knew there would be another chip she'd try to play. "Instead of the Watchtower?"

"Instead of the Watchtower."

"I don't know, Diana. Are you sure you want to put that on the table again? You've made good use of the closet, most of the furniture, and the bath, but it makes Alfred very sad that you've never stayed the night to use the bed. He always keeps it neatly made just in case..."

Diana reaches up from my shoulder with her right hand to gently pinch the side of my neck. "Hey... Who's supposed to be coercing who here?"

I laugh. I can't help it—don't even want to. She lifts her head from mine as I quickly grow more boisterous. When my laughter subsides, I pull Diana down, coaxing her out of the air. When her feet are flat on the floor, I lean toward her and give her a quick kiss.

"Nothing to do now but wait until I get home to see which of us was successful." I let her go and she does the same once my hands have left her shirt.

Diana nods. "I love you, Bruce," she says softly before letting me leave.

"I love you, too, Diana." I'm without hesitation. There is no uneasiness holding me back, as there was surrounding those first few dreams. "I'll see you later tonight."

She nods and steps aside for me to leave. I walk briskly to more quickly cross the manor. I arrive in the study and pass the grandfather clock to enter the Batcave, where I find Alfred near the Batwing.

"Alfred?"

"Ahh! There you are, sir," he calls back. He closes a maintenance panel, then secures it into place. "I anticipated when Miss Lane called that you might need to leave for Metropolis. You'll forgive me for assuming you might prefer this mode of transport."

"Thank you, Alfred." I give a humorless smirk as I reach the bottom of the steps and head for the display cases. "I'll admit I tend to avoid shooting my atoms into space whenever I can."

"Bad experience, sir?" he asks knowingly as I retrieve my Batsuit.

"Bad dream, more accurately," I answer, following his lead and making light of my ongoing situation.

I begin to change, handing each piece of my suit to Alfred as I go. "When were the last updates?"

"Master Timothy checked in nearly an hour ago to report breaking up some minor trouble near the Ace Chemical plant. Miss Gordon recently reported some activity of interest in the vicinity of the Iceberg Lounge."

"Penguin?" I ask while finishing the boots and pants of my Batsuit.

"My apologies, Master Bruce. Miss Lane's call interrupted me before I could delve further into the details. Perhaps it will make for a good listen during your flight."

"Right." I pause to finish donning my suit, ending with the gloves and pulling my cowl into place. _'He's goading me.'_ I look to Alfred and ask, "Is it safe to assume you want me to make this trip as quickly as possible, too?"

"And for a moment I worried we would have to pass your title on to The Flash…"

I give an amused grunt. _'World's Greatest Detective; something that's helped me get into about as much trouble as it's gotten me out of.'_

I step past Alfred and make my way to the Batwing. I climb into my pilot's seat and begin the familiar routine of pre-flight checks. I spot Alfred approaching just as I begin to power up the engine. "Any specific instructions while you're gone, sir?"

"As usual, Alfred."

"Of course, sir. Might I assume it appropriate to notify Miss Diana when you will be back?"

"Yes, I'd appreciate it. Thank you again, Alfred."

Finally, I close the canopy and Alfred steps back, moving far enough away to be safe before it closes. I look up towards the Batwing's access cave and make sure the exterior door is ready for me before beginning my takeoff. The telltale scream of the engine fills my ears as the aircraft bearing my costumed name begins to move.

In a few minutes, I've left the grandeur of Wayne Manor behind and turned away from Gotham. My course set, I lift my hand, preparing to review Batgirl's report and then radio her about what she saw at Penguin's establishment. My hand stops in mid-air. Eventually, it falls back to the Batwing's controls.

I instead find myself looking back in time. My thoughts start with my lack of hesitation offering endearments to Diana. Just three months ago, I still might have hesitated—only for a moment, but hesitation nonetheless. A few days earlier, when I still knew nothing of Diana's visions, gets into hesitations and doubts today's Diana would certainly take issue with.

Regardless, I spent a few days afterwards coming to grips with the fact that Diana knows the darkest side of my past, that she witnessed the moment I lost my innocence. She watched as my childhood was torn from me before I was ready to become a man, leaving me a mere existence, barely alive. I can't help but take satisfaction from the fact that it affected her as strongly as it did. In a way, the atrocity of my parents' murder both spawned Batman and, years later, kept the Justice League whole.

More importantly, her pity had quickly faded. I'm sure she still thinks back to that June night, but she doesn't regard me as the poor soul disgracing the memory my parents left behind that so many others see upon mistaking the playboy for all that I am. I take solace in that she simply understands, that she shares her own pains and comforts me for mine. In that regard, it's almost reminiscent of Leslie.

Accepting that Diana could struggle as deeply with my parents' death as I do was difficult to accept, but eventually, I realized something: in the rawest of truths, we both faced the abyss, overcame it, and emerged stronger. The murder itself and my role in it were my abyss, the mission my answer to it, the inspiration of bats my avenue. For Diana, the abyss engulfed her, threatening to tear her apart. She pulled herself free from it only to witness my defining moment. The experience instilled the same drive in her that it did me, though admittedly our executions were different, but then, so are our tools.

My thoughts slowly fall silent, leaving me for the most part still as I continue to fly. The quiet, droning scream of the Batwing's engine accompanies me the whole flight, a constant reminder that my tools are different from not just Diana, but all of my colleagues. Examining my methods and the effect of my mere presence in contrast to even just the other League founders, it makes me think that to the common criminal, I am more Crane than Dent or Cobblepot.

Finally, the Metropolis skyline stretches out before me. I refocus on my surroundings and get my bearings. At the same time, I tap into the network of WayneTech satellites, navigating the city with the network's data. I switch flight modes and gently set the Batwing on the flat roof of a high rise.

I shut off the Batwing's flight systems and initialize its security routines as the canopy opens. I climb out onto the roof and reach down to my belt for my grapnel as I approach the edge of the roof. When I'm sure the Batwing's canopy is closed behind me, I fire the grapnel at the skyline and take off, putting some distance between myself and my mode of transport.

I find another good rooftop a few minutes later and move to stand in the middle of the open space. I lift my hand to my ear and tunnel into the Justice League's communication system. "Batman to Superman."

I wait for the automated system to connect me and then find myself waiting a few minutes more. Finally, I receive an answer. "Superman here." He interrupts himself with a yawn and I can't say I'm surprised that I woke him. "What is it?"

"We need to talk. I'm already in Metropolis."

"Ok…where are you?"

"A rooftop a couple blocks east of the Daily Planet. You'll see me."

Another yawn. "Alright, hold on."

I turn towards Clark's apartment building and wait. It takes barely a minute for the Man of Steel to arrive. "Alright, I'm awake and here. What dragged you out of your cave?" he jokes.

_'Too bad I'm not exactly here for jokes.'_ I let him land and approach me before answering. "It may have been a little implicit, but I made you a promise a long time ago, Clark. I'm here to make good on it, but you'll have to forgive my delivery."

I reach for my belt underneath my cape. "Ok… Am I supposed to guess—" Superman cuts himself off with a pained groan as I pull the kryptonite shard from the compartment on my utility belt.

His hands come up defensively as I step closer and he tries to shield his face before collapsing, falling backwards and landing on his back at my feet. He strains to speak. "Bruce! Bruce, what are you doing?" His voice is weak, barely louder than a quiet conversational tone.

"Pushing _you_ into an elevator to make a point." I pause, stepping closer to Superman's feet as I lower my arm and the kryptonite in my outstretched hand. I don't doubt that he remembers what I mean. "Certainly doesn't take much, does it, Clark?" Another reference I'm sure he will remember.

His only response is another groan of pain. "You spend much time thinking about how easily you could die tomorrow? Take a moment to think about how much you would regret leaving undone if I dropped this kryptonite onto your chest and left you to die."

I fall silent. I give him extra time for my words to sink in amidst the pain. He answers me only with groans, his hands slowly falling away, dropping towards his chest. "You aren't the only one who suffers for your _self_-sacrifices, _Superman_. Sometimes, you have to trust others to know what's best, both for you and for them."

My point made, I return the kryptonite to its lead compartment and step back. Superman starts to recover immediately, letting out something between a sigh and a groan to indicate his relief. He begins to relax and I begin stepping around him to return to the Batwing.

"That's real rich coming from you." His tone is nearly spiteful, but given what I just did, I can't blame him. He begins to get up, propping himself up on his right arm as he turns to follow me with his glare. "Or are you speaking from experience?"

I stop walking, turn my head towards him as he rises to his feet. "Maybe I don't always know what's best, but I'm still usually right." I look forward and step up to the edge of the roof.

I lift my arm, fire my grapnel at a nearby building. I hesitate before letting the line retract. "I've learned a lot of late… About myself, others, _her_. You could stand to learn a few things yourself, or relearn, whichever the case may be. In light of everything that's happened to me, what I find most vexing is how you could have ever let it all go without a fight..."

Before Superman can reply, I activate the grapnel and take to the Metropolis sky, leaving Krypton's last son to his thoughts. I cover the distance back to the Batwing quickly and get in as soon as I arrive.

Not ten minutes after I'm in the air, I receive a call. I reach to the communications screen and activate it. Alfred's image appears and his voice fills the cockpit. "I see you've taken off, sir."

"Have you been keeping tabs on me, Alfred?"

"Only occasionally and by force of habit, sir."

"And Diana?"

"I believe she is taking a short nap while awaiting your return." He gives an exasperated sigh and I have a feeling I know what he'll say next. "It's so disappointing that so few make good use of the beds I meticulously prepare each morning."

I wasn't wrong and find myself waiting an extra moment before responding. "Well, I tried."

Alfred gives a sigh of resignation. "I'm sure you did, sir, but I suppose some things just take more time than I'd like."

"Meaning?"

"Might I be so bold as to ask how many times you've been to the jeweler's in the past few weeks, sir? For simplicity's sake, shall we focus solely on your _daytime_ visits?"

I frown. _'He really has been keeping tabs on me…'_ I can't help but shift uncomfortably in my seat. "…That's not something I want to rush, Alfred."

"Of course I sympathize, Master Bruce, but have you not delayed enough already?"

I turn, avoiding Alfred's eyes for a moment to think. _'He's right, naturally.'_ In light of everything I just finished telling Clark, I suppose I can't let myself delay any longer. After all, what do I really have to offer but time?

* * *

**Author's Note: **Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.

Alright, a few items of note. First, the weekly release schedule I kept up with Anchor, Respond, and Branches didn't leave me much time for anything else. I don't mean to say I didn't enjoy writing them (especially the feedback), but I'm going to be a little stricter about Wednesdays moving forward. Rather, if a chapter or one-shot isn't to the length/scope/quality I want it at by the end of a particular Wednesday, I'm going to push posting back until the next Wednesday. The upside of this is a lot less typing pains for me. The downside is potentially less frequent updates. My goal will stay at weekly releases (outside writing vacations). Status information will be on my Profile.

Second, I want to thank everyone who came and read during my little vacation. Readership seemed to fall into a weekly cycle by the end of Branches. I expected readership to fall off a cliff while things were stagnant, but with three completed fanfics to be read at leisure, I've seen far more readers than I ever hoped. So, I'd like to welcome all my new readers and thank everyone who read or re-read Anchor, Respond, and Branches while waiting for something new.

The third thing is a word about chapter perspectives. In Branches, I was able to alternate between Bruce's perspective and Diana's from one chapter to the next, something I started as early as with Respond and Anchor. I still want Purpose to be told in roughly equal parts by Bruce and Diana, but there will be times when one character or another will get multiple chapters in a row to themselves.**  
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	2. Share

**Author's Note:** I know it might not seem to be at first, but I promise that it's relevant. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

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I lie low, surrounded and hidden by the tall grasses of the savanna. I know four of my sisters are positioning themselves in similar fashion. Our target on this hunt: the herd of wildebeest spread out before us.

My sisters will wait for me to launch our ambush. I am in charge of this hunt and, as such, it is my privilege to choose our prey. I stay silent, judging the situation even as I stalk carefully closer before making my move, my stomach barely suspended above the ground as I crawl.

There are numerous calves ripe for the picking and I nearly let the temptation sway my decision. Luckily, I spot a wounded wildebeest first, its right hind leg injured. I can neither see nor smell blood, but the injury is made clear by the creature's hobbled movement. If I am lucky, the leg will be broken, but at worst, a sprain will still slow the animal down.

I creep slowly closer. Soon, I feel that I won't be able to make any more progress without my ill-fated target spotting me. I ready my limbs, preparing to spring to my feet and dash in for a swift killing strike.

All of a sudden, the herd begins to scatter. I lift my head to quickly scan the grasses. My sisters are still in hiding. _'Which of us did they spot?'_ I look ahead just in time to notice my injured wildebeest is fleeing almost directly towards me.

My excitement quickly builds and I feel my heart pick up as my anticipation begins to mount. The beast grows closer and closer and I feel a twitch run through my forearms and straight down to the tips of my fingers. They reflexively curl into the dry soil and I know it's time.

I release the energy, let loose the tension in my limbs and with a great leap, I am airborne. I land on my feet at the end of my breath, nearly a yard and a half from my hiding spot and already in a full sprint. My prey sees me immediately and tries to turn away.

Despite its efforts, its momentum carries it too close to me for its comfort. I can see the panic in its eyes. We both know its death is imminent. I leap into the air again, aiming for its shoulders.

The breath is forced from my lungs as my chest collides with the beast's shoulders and I land across its back. My head, left shoulder, and arm hang over its left side, the rest of me lagging behind and hanging to its right. I reach for the animal's chest, wrapping my arms around it and securing my grip as my feet land on the ground by its right foreleg.

It cries out in horror as I pull my feet from the ground, forcing the injured wildebeest to carry my full weight if it wants to keep moving. I press my feet into the outside of its front right leg. The shift in balance sends my chest sliding across the beast's back. Before I can lose my grip on the struggling creature, I lean my head forward, opening my mouth to prepare my most effective hunting weapon.

I reach around to the front of the flailing creature's neck, barely avoiding its head as it moves wildly about. I close my jaws around its windpipe, my teeth sinking easily into the warm flesh. I hold still as it cries out again in pain. I tighten my jaws as much as possible and its cry fades while I wait for my prey to become my food.

With the beast soon on the ground and dead, I disentangle myself from its body. My task complete, I survey my surroundings. I see only an empty savanna. _'Where are my sisters? Where is the herd?'_

I shout, screaming at the top of my lungs. My sisters do not answer me. There is nothing but savanna, stretching out in all directions. Nothing is moving but the grasses in the gentle late morning breeze.

I wait longer than I should before resigning myself to the apparent situation. Finally, I turn my attention back to the carcass at my feet. I mournfully close my eyes, once more remembering my sisters.

Before long, the weight of reality is upon me and I know I must continue on. I place my left hand on the side of the carcass to hold it still and begin tearing at the beast's body with my teeth. I'll need the energy if I plan to bring this meal home, a task all the more daunting to have to do alone.

Eventually, with the sun just starting the latter half of its sky-spanning journey, I finish my meal. I've eaten more than my usual fill. Now I must carry out my duty, one I should be sharing with my sisters.

I take hold of the carcass's neck and begin to move. My journey is a slow, plodding walk that seems to last for the whole of the afternoon, stretching on for hours upon hours. My limbs grow sore from my exertions. My neck and jaw grow sore from the strain. Still, I persevere and drag on.

Finally, from a ways off, I hear a familiar cry, a roar of a shout calling out to me. I drop the carcass and look up. I quickly spot the father of my children and mine alone, our two young cubs flanking him as the three of them approach. There is no sign of my nieces or nephews, nor of their father. It's as if the rest of our pride never existed.

I stand still, waiting for my small, immediate family to reach me and my prize. Once they arrive, we affectionately touch our faces together to celebrate our reunion before turning our attention to the carcass. I watch my man direct our young to the easiest spots from which to feed before himself settling in to begin our family feast.

As I reach down with my jaws for a second meal, something booms in my ears. I stop, lifting my head and looking up. I look around, but I cannot find the source of the noise. I look to my children and their father, but none of them seem to have even heard it.

It begins again, repeating itself and I begin to recognize the sounds. They repeat a third time and I recognize them as words: "Miss Diana?"

_'Diana? What's a Diana? What did it miss?'_

I hear the words again and realize it's a voice, a voice speaking to me. _'Diana! Ohh—yes! That's me!'_ I think with a start.

At the end of the thought, the savanna, my family, and our meal disappear, shattering into a momentary nothingness. I feel my body again after a moment and recognize the darkness as the inside of my eyelids.

I jerk my head up as my eyes flash open. I look around for a few moments, totally lost as to where I am. My breathing picks up as confusion gives way to panic. My surroundings and all of the wood tones and the vibrant spots and strips of color startle me.

My eyes dart around and I feel as much as see the differences in my body. I can't help but feel naked without my claws, without my sharp teeth, without my golden yellow coat. I feel vulnerable, sitting with my backside against something soft and my stomach exposed to the room. I have no way to hide, the soft fabrics covering me so completely from head to toe stand in such harsh contrast to the object I'm sitting atop and the rest of my surroundings.

"Miss Diana? Is something the matter?"

I turn to the source of the voice, an old man wearing a suit of black. I blink and my jaw drops with my confusion.

"Miss Diana?"

I notice a haze in my mind, but only because it begins to clear. I close my mouth and swallow while turning my head and gazing forward, looking away from the man to my left. "No. I'm fine. It was just a dream…" I'm not entirely sure where the words come from, but they express not my thoughts, but my feelings perfectly.

"Not something similar to what Master Bruce experienced, I hope."

"Bruce..." My mind goes reflexively to my cubs' father and his handsome mane. The haze is nearly clear. I shake my head gently to try to banish the last of it from my head. As soon as it is gone, my memories—my mind—seem to come back in a single, overwhelming flood of information and knowledge.

I begin lifting my hands to my face, but feel something against them. I look down to see an open book spread across my lap. I close it and pick it up with my left hand, swinging my arm out to set the book on the end table beside the sofa. When my hand is empty, I bring both up to my face.

I press my palms to my cheeks, covering my eyes with my fingers. I rub my forehead with my fingertips and fail to stifle a tired groan. I sigh, then spread my fingertips and weave my fingers into my hair, pulling my hands over the top of my head as I tip it forward.

I lean out, over my lap as I continue the long brushstroke of my hands, stopping when I can reach no further back. I lift my hands away, letting my hair fall freely down my back. When the last locks have fallen, I lift my hands over my head and stretch my arms before at last relaxing back into my seat.

"No, Alfred," I begin as my mind works to sort out 'me,' "I don't think it was anything like his dreams."

"Well, then, I must admit my relief, Miss Diana. For a moment, I worried you might tear out of the library to go make your own panicked phone call."

I smile knowingly and look up to Alfred. "Fortunately, no."

"Ahh. Well, in any case, I apologize for waking you. I wanted to be sure you knew that Master Bruce is on his way back from Metropolis. He should arrive within about the next ten minutes."

"You already spoke to him?"

"Yes, some time ago now. I happened to catch him very early in his return flight."

I nod in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Alfred." I feel myself beginning to yawn and lift my hand to hide my mouth as it opens.

"If you don't think he'll mind, I'll just wait for him here."

"Of course, Miss Diana. I'll direct him here as soon as he arrives."

"Did he say how long he's going to stay before going out to join Barbara and Tim?"

He shakes his head, then looks away, past me to my right. "Though, since it is after midnight, I expect that he will only stay for a short moment before beginning his nightly duties."

I nod in understanding, then smile to Alfred. "Well, I guess I'll take what I can get." He closes his eyes at my words, then takes a deep breath and sighs in response. The smile drops from my face. "What?"

"Forgive me, Miss, I simply grow old."

"What do you mean, Alfred?"

He stops, looks at me for a few moments in silence as he considers his words. "Well, suffice it to say there is no progress in settling for the status quo."

Alfred turns, leaving me to wonder what brought such a comment about. I let him leave without another word. There's no point in trying, I'm sure he intends for me to figure it out for myself.

Left to my own thoughts, I do _try_ to dissect Alfred's words, but it doesn't last for long. My dream takes over my mind before long. An eventuality bound to happen sooner rather than later if ever there were one.

The first thing I notice is the vividness of the whole dream. I can remember sights, sounds, smells—even the way the wildebeest tasted and the way things felt. I remember the beginning of the dream, its end, and everything in between. I even feel like I know some of what happened before it started; how the hunt began, my sisters and I leaving our children in the care of their fathers.

The whole thing still seems so real. Not one bit of it is fading in my mind, even as I try to distract myself with other memories. _'Just like when I experienced Apollo's visions. And if that is the case, I'll need to tell Bruce.'_ Maybe I don't need to tonight, since he probably won't have time before he has to join his young allies in the city, but eventually, I will need to tell him what happened.

To that end, I count myself lucky. Neither my words nor Alfred's had fallen on truly deaf ears. Throughout everything surrounding the start of our relationship, I was at least able to drive one point home to Bruce: he can trust me as his confidant and in return, I entrust him as mine.

For three months, he has never needed to reaffirm his promise at my questioning or tell me that nothing has come up that he couldn't work through on his own. I have seen proof positive that he trusts in me, opens himself to me. Since his nearly forced confession, the exhaustive explanation of his initial series of dreams, he's had no less than a dozen more.

A few have been peaceful, at least one was even unabashedly romantic. As much as it warmed my heart to hear about it, I was surprised to find myself sharing Bruce's concerns that the first dream after he watched the League fall apart would be so disarmingly peaceful as to depict the two of us as an elderly couple relaxing in the garden behind Wayne Manor.

Bruce's second dream had been a worrisome hassle, for Alfred in particular. I initially heard about it from Alfred and only parts in minimal detail. It wasn't until later that Bruce got a chance to tell me the whole story himself.

He dreamt himself captured by Two-Face and disfigured in the same manner. His newly-scarred dream-self had killed his former friend in retaliation, then completely withdrawn from the public as Bruce Wayne. He eventually reemerged in the night as "Two-Bat," a nickname made up by a thug before a switch flipped in Bruce's mind and he brutally murdered two of the five lackeys sent to confront him.

He had awoken with a scream and by the time Alfred found him, he had stumbled his way to the sink in his master bathroom and was vigorously scrubbing his hands with a look of abject horror plastered across his face. Alfred's arrival and subsequent attempts at conversation only set Bruce muttering "with my bare hands…my bare hands" repeatedly.

When he saw he would be of no help alone, Alfred had left Bruce for the briefest of moments—just long enough to make a quick dash for the cave to contact me and urge my haste. When I arrived, I'd had to brace myself against Bruce's back and pull his hands clear of the sink to break him from his near trance.

It had taken an appeal to his logic to truly calm him, things that his mind could not ignore. Alfred had started, telling Bruce that whatever his hands were guilty of was not real. He implored him to notice his dress, or rather his nightclothes. When he took pause, I told him to remember himself, then turned his attention to a nearby floor-length mirror.

He'd stilled when he saw his reflection. His arms relaxed and I let him go in time for him to mutter, "Pathetic..." I asked what happened and his explanation left both Alfred and myself less worried but far more empathic than when we first entered the room.

He'd calmed down a lot after that experience. Then, after three mild dreams, he called me as soon as he woke up from another and asked me, "Do you know who I am?"

"Bruce," I'd told him, beginning to chuckle, "what kind of question is that?"

"Do you love me?" he had asked with not a trace of levity in his voice. The question killed my laughter.

I'd told him that of course I love him, and then demanded to know what he was talking about. He'd invited me to the manor, promising to explain once we were face-to-face. I'd of course hurried to Wayne Manor, not bothering to change out of my armor and secure in the knowledge that plenty of choices would be waiting for me if I needed to change into something more casual. He met me at the front door when I arrived and I refused to let him lead me out of the foyer before sitting down to talk.

His explanation certainly left me without words. He'd told me that he and Kal had switched lives. He was still Bruce Wayne and Kal was still Clark Kent, but everything else was flipped, the Waynes were farmers from Kansas and the Kents were Gotham's wealthiest couple, gunned down in the city's street. He'd told me that his dream self even inherited Kal's Kryptonian heritage and, naturally, Kal had inherited his billions and the appropriately named Kent Enterprises.

Though Bruce was only asleep a few hours, the dream spanned a whole week. While he adjusted well to the new situation—or at least that was his opinion—the one thing he could not get over was me. He told me that the Justice League was in full swing and that while at home in Metropolis, he was trying to stall Lois and avoid her advances. Meanwhile in Gotham, Clark was getting all of my attention. He'd surprised me by bluntly telling me that the idea disgusted him, and then shocked me by asking if I could ever love Kal like I do him.

I certainly don't, but while I was trying to think of how to kindly describe the limits to our friendship, he surprised me again, telling me that my silence was what he hoped for. He lost me in that moment, but fortunately, he wasted no more time before explaining that he wasn't really himself living Kal's life, that not only did his perspective change, but so did who and what he is. The only thing that remained the same was his name. With everything so different, he couldn't imagine me falling in love with such a version of himself. If I could, he figured it would mean I could fall in love with the real Kal as well.

I didn't know how to respond to that, but eventually something hit me. I took his hands in mine and told him, "I love you as you are here and now, Bruce. Whether they are your own or something conjured by Apollo, don't let your dreams determine your reality. No reality but this matters. Still, I'd like to think I'd have fallen in love with you no matter where your mind might decide to hide."

His next dream had been much easier to handle. Bruce and I had gone on a date while Bruce was out of the country. The opportunity couldn't have been more wonderful. Bruce was in Paris on business—legitimate, WayneTech business. I'd joined him in the City of Light and we'd visited a restaurant in the Eiffel Tower for dinner, Le Jules Verne. While we sat waiting for our meal, Bruce had recounted the events of his most recent dream to me.

I'd been very happy to hear about it. He said he'd been patrolling Gotham with a new partner. At first, I'd been jealous when he said it was a woman, but he'd continued the story and kept my attention long enough to recount his return to Wayne Manor. He and his partner had climbed into the Batmobile at the end of their night and she had almost immediately removed her cowl, revealing that _I_ was his partner, dressed as a bat to join Bruce in Gotham's streets.

I asked the relatively innocuous question for his thoughts on the idea, but he simply skipped to the inevitable question of permission and immediately shot me down. In truth, I wasn't thinking of asking for his consent to join him in Gotham on _that_ night. I only meant to make sure the idea was properly planted and sewn. I'd backed off immediately, deciding to bide my time and wait, in hopes that I might someday get the opportunity to make some sort of an appeal.

A few dreams later was perhaps the most clearly symbolic of the bunch. It's also the only one that hit a little close to home for me, personally. For some reason that at least _I'm_ not aware of, when we need to deal with our liaison to the U.S. government, Amanda Waller, she prefers speaking to Bruce. He told me once that he's reasonably sure it's because he is the only founder not gifted with superhuman abilities or a weapon like John's ring.

Waller's personal issues aside, she had met with Batman a few nights before the dream. I'd like to think of that as coincidence, but in the dream, the seven founding members of the League and a few of the most prominent among the remaining members were sitting in a large circle, discussing the state of the world and what should be done to curb crime—if not stamp it out completely. Aside from our discussions and proposals playing to every fear that CADMUS was organized to address, the dream put the Justice League atop Mount Olympus, in place of my Greek gods.

The whole concept just...unsettled me. I didn't like the idea of us replacing Zeus and his ilk in the Pantheon. As individuals, we merely do as we will. The Justice League performs an important function within the world, it doesn't decide who is free, who lives, or _what_ justice is.

As I sat conflicted beside him, Bruce had commented that he has no idea what Apollo was trying to show him or warn him of if it was indeed meant to be a dream of prophecy or symbolism. That simple mention made the all important distinction for me, replacing my disquiet with curiosity. That Bruce's dream was conjured by those he dreamt us replacing made the whole thing a lot easier to think about, leaving me free to join Bruce in examining the imagery. Even then, everything we considered somehow came back to the whys of CADMUS.

Bruce had other dreams, of course. Some were untouched by Apollo, or at least that's how it seemed. Despite all of his dreams, however, mine have always been my own. The idea that this dream may have been my first is…worrying.

I find myself asking many of the questions Bruce asked himself. Why me? Why now? Is the dream important or something it symbolizes? Are Apollo and the gods trying to prepare me for something? Do they mean to hasten something? Are they trying guide me to something I won't do on my own? Is the important thing what _will_ happen or what needs to happen _instead_?

"Diana?" I hear, a welcome and familiar voice cutting straight through my thoughts.

I snap out of my reflections and look up. "Bruce!" He's still dressed almost every bit the bat. Only his cape and cowl are not in their proper place, instead clutched loosely in his right hand.

"…Is something wrong, Diana? Alfred said you seemed a little off."

I sigh, halfway between disappointment and tiredness. _'Should have expected that. I wish he hadn't said anything to Bruce…'_ I smile reassuringly. "_I'm_ fine." The words are on my lips before I can stop myself, so I try to at least minimize the emphasis, but Bruce catches on it regardless.

He raises an eyebrow and tips his head towards me. "But…"

I avoid his eyes for a moment. "I had a dream." I shift my gaze in time to see his expression harden in response, leaving me nothing to do but confirm his suspicion. "Yes, I think Apollo had a hand in it."

He tosses his cape and cowl to the floor and moves to sit next to me on the sofa, finally getting the opportunity to move the book he left on the cushion over two hours beforehand. "What happened?"

"I was…not myself." It seems like such an odd thing to have to explain. "Me, but not…well, _me_." I motion to my body to clarify.

"Meaning?" A relaxed, simple prompt. Keeping in mind who I'm talking to, it's amazing he doesn't already seem out of patience.

"I was a lioness." I think back to the dream. My words seem wrong, like I shouldn't need to say 'lioness,' like saying 'I' makes it redundant and obvious. "I led a hunt with my sisters. We'd come across a herd of wildebeest and I picked out one that was wounded."

I pause, turning to Bruce. His seriousness, his attentiveness reassure me. "Something startled the herd and they began to scatter. I thought one of them spotted one of my sisters.

"My chosen prey started a hobbled run almost right to me." I turn forward again and find myself lifting my hands to get a better look at them. "I _felt_ the excitement, the adrenaline as it coursed through me. I felt my toes and my fingers curl and the tips of my claws digging into the dirt before I leapt out of hiding and sprinted at the beast.

"I lunged at it, landed halfway across its back, and grabbed it with my arms." I lower my arms and look past them. "I used my feet to brace myself against its upper forelimb in a way I don't even know how to show you with these legs."

I notice my excitement, building more and more with each new word, and spend a few breaths trying to calm myself. "Before I could be shaken off, I reached around with my head, got my jaws under its chin and bit into its neck. I held onto it until it died.

"When I stood up afterwards, I realized that I was alone. My sisters were all missing and so was the rest of the herd of wildebeest. I did what I had to do. I spent a brief moment mourning their disappearance, then I ate. When I was done, I picked up the carcass and dragged what was left home."

I turn back to Bruce. His expression is still as serious and attentive as before. He seems more interested as well and I get the feeling that even if he had his cowl on, I'd be able to clearly see that he's taking me seriously. Somehow I don't think anyone else in the League but J'onn would be able to remain so focused, so trusting.

Even Kal would be trying to get me to laugh it off by now. _'Hera knows I want to, but…I can't, not with everything that's happened to Bruce. After all he's been through, how could I let myself think this was just a simple dream?'_

My gaze falls to the sofa cushion visible between us and I pause. _'After…'_ I look up to Bruce. _'…all he's been through…'_ It hits me. This must be how Bruce feels about his dreams, like he's lived an entire existence that felt like it replaced reality, like it had always been reality itself.

"Diana, did anything happen afterward?" Bruce asks. His words are soft, yet they easily pull me from my thoughts once more.

"I spent most of the afternoon dragging the wildebeest back." I can't help but pause again. I know what I need to recount next, but I don't know _how_ to. Based on where my mind went while talking to Alfred, it seems obvious. It's just that I have no idea what Bruce will think about it.

I take a deep breath before jumping in headlong. "Eventually, I got…home, for lack of a better word. …You were there waiting for me."

Bruce straightens in his seat. "Me?"

I turn away, looking ahead. "I think. That's the impression I got. Alfred mentioned you after I woke up and all that came to mind was the lion that greeted me when I arrived home and your _handsome_ mane and—" I stop myself as my words gradually come faster, suddenly aware of how worked up I'm getting as the experience of the dream fills my head once more. I look down to my arms, my elbows against my sides, my forearms lifted, and my hands closed into fists already beyond the verge of trembling with excitement.

"Sorry…" I nearly whisper, dropping my hands back to my lap. I turn to Bruce, see his undisguised surprise. I turn my knees towards him to better face him, then lift my hands to his cheeks. "For what it's worth, Bruce, I think you look very handsome as you are, both in and out of costume."

He smirks for the briefest of moments before suppressing it and refocusing. "Is there…anything else about this dream I should know?"

Anything else about the dream? I lower my hands. _'Well, no, there really wasn't anything more to it except that…'_ I tip my head back and away from Bruce while looking up to the ceiling. "Well, we…had two cubs…"

"Cubs?"

"Cubs, children—a son and a daughter—whatever you want to call them."

Bruce perks up a little at the mention of genders. "A son and a daughter? Did they have names, too?"

I almost can't tell if he's being serious or sarcastic. "No, none of us had names for each other. It wasn't until Alfred started trying to get my attention and wake me that I realized I _ever_ had a name. Then, waking up was a very…sudden transition."

I seem to have inadvertently refocused Bruce. "How so?"

"One moment, I was trying to settle in for dinner with our family, the next I'm opening my eyes to a whole different space and everything about me is different." Though a little late, I realize my slip in saying 'our,' but it's not worth addressing if Bruce doesn't point it out.

I take his silence as license to continue. "All of a sudden, I was alone, surrounded by all different colors, lying or rather sitting with my back against something, and feeling vulnerable without any weapons and with my chest and stomach exposed."

"What?"

I lift my gaze back to Bruce's eyes. His misunderstanding is clear. "No. Not like _that_. I only meant that my front side was facing the open room."

"Oh. Right." Despite his nearly monotone response, I can still sense his relief.

"Yeah. Right." I can't help but poke fun at his misinterpretation, my words colored with a light coat of sarcasm.

Bruce glares back at me in response and somehow, it just feels like what I need. I laugh for a moment as I sit back on the sofa. When I calm, I let my head fall back onto the top edge of the sofa, sinking into the seat a little to keep my neck from bending too far.

"Well, at least one of us is amused."

I lift myself up and turn to him again. "Sorry, Bruce, I didn't mean—"

"We'll figure them out, Diana," he interrupts.

I smile. I look down at the bat symbol on his chest and answer with a few small nods of my head. When I stop, I lift my eyes back to meet his. "Just…not now, right?"

"Yeah."

"Indulge me a little before you head out?"

"Of course." He scoots a little closer while removing his gloves and tossing them towards his cape and cowl. He flashes me a confident smile and then begins leaning closer while reaching for my waist. "Bet this is something we couldn't do as lions."

I put my hands on his wrists and laugh as I glide them up his arms, eventually settling them on his shoulders. "No, we had to settle for rubbing our faces against each other."

Bruce smirks and then I lift my hands to his neck and pull him closer. He puts up no resistance and, once I'm sure we both know what the other wants, I close my eyes and make for Bruce's lips with my own.

I have to wait only a short moment before I feel him upon me. My fingers tighten almost by reflex as the press of his lips goes from a gentle touch to a tight seal. He backs away after only a moment and my eyes open of their own accord. I see Bruce looking back at me.

We gauge each other for a moment, then I close my eyes again and go back for more. Our lips fall out of alignment, letting us each capture a lip between our own. We alternate for a few moments, me taking Bruce's upper lip for one kiss, then Bruce taking mine for the next.

I pull back for our second short pause. We regard each other lovingly, then bring our lips back together. We each tip our heads to the side, then begin tiny motions with our jaws to work our lips against one another. The sensations resonate through me, filling my head with pleasure. All I want is more.

Before long, I feel Bruce's breath even more prominently against my skin and realize that his breathing is picking up. The realization makes me aware of my own excitement. My breathing has picked up in a similar fashion. Already under my shirt and gliding along my bare skin, his hands slow. I get the feeling that our kiss won't last much longer. I make the best of it while I can, letting the sensations wash over me, engrossing myself in Bruce and letting our surroundings fall away.

Without paying attention to time, when Bruce finally pulls away, I'm left unsure if we've spent a long time or a short time kissing one another. Still, well before I open my eyes after his lips leave mine, I already know what he will say.

"I know," I say before he can speak. I relax my hands and move them down to his shoulders.

He nods solemnly. "Sorry, I need to go." I take my turn and nod, smiling and closing my eyes. I don't know why he needed to bother saying it. "Will I see you in the morning?"

The smile falls from my face. I open my eyes and look Bruce in the eye. I want to answer yes, but… "No. After what just happened...I need to wake up to familiar surroundings."

He surprises me by smirking. "Then I suppose you coerced me. I'll have to wait for another chance." I can't help but chuckle in response. "Then I trust I'll see you at this week's founders' meeting?"

"Of course." Bruce's hands leave me as I speak. He makes to get up as I finish.

I follow him to his feet not more than a few short seconds after he turns away and crouches beside the discarded pieces of his costume. He collects the items quickly and stands while putting his gloves on, the cape and cowl draped across his left arm.

I watch him pull the cape and cowl from his arm once his hands are free and ready. Soon his costume is complete. He turns to me and gives me a small, respectful nod, but holds his silence for the moment. I understand that he still doesn't like saying goodbye, but there's one thing I am _not_ going to let him get away with.

I approach quickly and reach straight for his cowl. His mouth begins to open, but before he can get a word out, I've already pulled his cowl back, exposing the entirety of his face. "I love you, Bruce," I tell him with a mixture of firm confidence and affection.

"I love you, too, Diana," he answers softly and without hesitation. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I nod again, smiling as I bring my hand back to my side, letting him right his cowl. It's not that I really care what he's wearing when we exchange endearments, it's just that right now, in this moment, I wanted to be able to see his eyes. Still, my preference would of course be no mask. Similarly, I would have preferred civilian clothes over the Batsuit, but I don't think of myself as being _that_ picky.

I watch as he quickly turns away, the end of his cape sweeping out around his feet. Without another word, he leaves the library and I'm alone once more. I sit back down for a little bit, waiting until I'm sure Bruce will have had enough time to leave the manor.

Once I've waited long enough, I sigh and lift myself to my feet. I'm tired and ready to go to sleep. I'd let myself fall asleep here again if not for the need to wake up in my own bed. I leave the library and exit into the halls of Wayne Manor, undecided if I hope to run into Alfred or not. I certainly want to bid him a good night, but Bruce's comments made me confront something I'd pushed to the back of my mind for months.

He's gone to all the trouble of keeping a room ready for me and I use everything but the bed. A bed to sleep on was more or less the point of giving me use of a _bed_room. I don't want to disappoint Alfred yet again, but after what's already happened tonight, I _need_ to wake up to more familiar settings tomorrow morning. Not knowing where—to say nothing of who or what—I was when I woke up was not a pleasant experience.

At the end of the hallway, I find myself coming out by the stairs of the foyer. I notice Alfred almost immediately, standing just outside of the arc of the front door, though both are still closed. I immediately feel guilty.

"Miss Diana," he respectfully greets.

"Alfred…" I pick up my pace as I approach. I don't want to at all feel like I'm talking across the room. "I'm sorry."

"No worries, my dear, I anticipated you would be returning to the Watchtower, even before Master Bruce informed me."

"No—well…yes, there's that, too—but I mean for my dream." His expression shifts and I can tell I've piqued his curiosity. _'Maybe Bruce didn't tell him as much as I thought.'_ But I've already started, so what choice do I have but to continue? "Bruce never dreamed himself some_thing_ else, so I didn't really think of mine as like one of his. It didn't occur to me that it might be until you mentioned it."

"I trust talking about it with Master Bruce helped." I nod, but he responds to my unchanging expression. "You needn't say any more. I will of course listen to anything you'd like to discuss, but you don't need to recount your dream simply because I missed it the first time around."

"Thank you, Alfred."

"Of course, Miss, but might I ask one favor before you depart?" Even as he speaks, Alfred opens the door to the Gotham night waiting outside for me. The landing and stairs outside are entirely lit by the manor's outdoor lighting, but the night is still obvious beyond the lights' reach.

I recognize the option for what it is and then nod in reply, feeling the curiosity on my face. "I simply would like for you to keep my advice in mind."

"What?"

"About progress."

It takes a moment for the memory to resurface in my mind. _'…No progress in settling for the status quo…'_ I nod to tell the older man that I remember.

"Forgive me for being a bit cryptic, but I believe it may become more relevant advice for you in the near future. I do hope you will remember when it's appropriate."

"I'll certainly try, Alfred."

"Thank you, Miss Diana. That is all I ask." He turns to the door for a moment, then turns back to me. "Now, then, I'm sure you would like to head back to get some rest. I won't delay you further."

I nod in appreciation. "Good night, then, Alfred."

"Good night, Miss Diana," he answers as I step past him and out the door.

He watches as I go down the stairs—I assume to make sure I don't trip, I only know that I don't hear the door again until I reach the pavement of the parking loop. When I'm a few feet from the bottom step, I lift my hand to my ear and send word to the Watchtower that I'm ready to head up.

Less than a minute later, I'm opening my eyes to the Watchtower. A seemingly random thought reminds me that I've merely traded one constant reminder of Bruce for another. I push the thought down, filing it away for later.

I step off the transporter pads and greet the transporter technician warmly before making my way to the main elevator. I'm more than ready to go to sleep. I just hope I won't have anything else unexpected happen to me while I'm asleep.

The elevator ride down to Dormitory Deck A is a quiet, lonely affair. Even in the early hours of morning, I'd expected to see one or two Leaguers about—someone coming back from their home country at the end of a patrol or for a quick moment of rest between civilian and crime-fighting lives. I suppose that's just my luck with timing.

I try to cast off my thoughts as I cross the boundary into my assigned room. I manage to forget the time as I walk through the door. The view outside my window certainly isn't reliable enough to give me much of a hint.

Still, my tiredness sweeps over me. I cannot keep from letting out a tired sigh. I walk to my closet, opening it to look in on its much barer interior. Only my original black dress from Paris and the scarlet one Audrey bought for me later that night remain hanging above the floor. _'Audrey…it's only thanks to her that either dress survived the Thanagarians.'_ I certainly couldn't be standing here today as I am if not for that ruined black dress.

There is a red plastic laundry basket on the floor in the middle of the open space, a shade even Bruce pointed out was reminiscent of my armor. One complete civilian outfit already lies in a loose pile in its bottom. They're the clothes I wore the last time I was at Bruce's.

I could always clean them in the room at the end of the hall, it's stocked full of cleaning supplies and comes fully equipped with laundry machines. It's what I always used to do, but that was before Bruce and I began seeing each other and certainly before Alfred offered to keep the clothes I started leaving at Wayne Manor clean for me. Alfred is just so…kind, accommodating, and helpful… I don't at all mean to take advantage of him, but it's just difficult to turn him down.

As I leave the basket beside my bed and turn to the bathroom, I recall nearly a month ago, when I'd worked up the nerve to ask Bruce very bluntly if Alfred held the same power over him that he already seems to hold over me. His answer truly struck me. Just recalling it, I can hear the words in my mind, perfectly reflected in his voice. _'There are only a handful of people I truly respect as equals, Diana, and no matter the differences in our aptitudes, Alfred is certainly one of the few.'_

At the time, I'd somehow forgotten to ask his opinion of me. Thinking about it, though, he's given me enough hints so that I know the truth without hearing the words. I stop in front of my bathroom sink and begin preparing for bed. My hands fall quickly into their routine and I lose myself staring at my reflection as they work.

Before long, I turn away, leaving the bathroom behind and returning to my bed. I strip carelessly, dropping my shirt, pants, and underclothing into the basket, then push it with my foot, sliding it across the floor towards my still-open closet. I should close it, but I'm growing more tired by the minute and at this point, it can just wait until tomorrow.

I turn back towards the bed and lean down over it, letting my hands sink into the gentle softness of my covers. It brings a smile to my lips and I spend a moment blinking lazily before reaching up towards the head of my bed. I grasp the hem of my sheet and blankets and pull them away, revealing the sheet below.

I waste no time on hesitation or making sure the covers are pulled back enough. I float up off the floor and lift my feet towards the folded edge of the sheet and blankets. I reach out with my toes and slip them between the matching layers of white. I extend my legs deeper into my bed, reorienting myself in the air as I hold my covers still. I feel the slight coolness of the sheets against my rear and sigh contentedly before sliding further into place and beginning to pull the covers straight.

I line my head up with my pillow and settle back, my head finally coming to rest atop the already soft surface made softer by the dark pool of my hair settling behind my head. I pull the sheets up past my breasts and turn my hands over, holding the fabric between my thumbs and forefingers as it wraps across the backs of my hands while I pull them up to my neck.

Once I return my hands to my sides, I relax. My breath flows evenly from my lungs, an exhale longer than I thought possible. I feel my body sink deeper into the mattress as the tension drains from my muscles and I lose myself in the comfortable embrace of my bed.

My mind feels refreshingly devoid of thoughts and before I know it, my consciousness slips away. I feel myself asleep for what seems like a few short moments of nothingness. A gentle darkness, surrounding and cradling me in its serenity. I sense something, like a clock within myself, and soon notice myself coming up from the darkness.

I feel my body around me again and grow rapidly more aware. As my awareness crests, my eyes open almost by reflex. I find myself looking up at a familiar ceiling of nearly featureless steel. Amidst my relief, I feel a world of difference in my body. The tiredness that I took to bed is nearly gone. I feel refreshed, full with energy.

I turn my head towards my window and look out into the vastness of space, comforted not by its emptiness, but by the presence of the image. I smile, take a long, deep breath through my nose. It seemed I was only asleep for a moment, but even without checking a clock, I know I've been asleep for hours.

Before I can be tempted by my bed back to sleep, I lift my hands to the top of my covers and pull them down into my lap as I sit up. I feel a quick wave of sleepiness, an added layer of temptation begging me to lie back once more. I guess I'm not as awake as I first figured, so I wait it out, focusing myself and taking the opportunity to look around.

My eyes first go to my body. I see my hair in the edges of my vision as I tip my head, every lock as black as it was when I fell asleep. It's all the proof I should need, but I still stare down for a few moments to be absolutely certain. My eyes meet human breasts, the light skin of my chest and torso, and my arms, my hands, and my long, distinctly human fingers, all free of anything resembling a coat of fur. Past the fold of my covers, I see the outlines of my legs and feet—all of me, exactly as I should be.

A series of three beeps catches my attention, interrupting me before I can feel any real relief for waking up so normally. I look past the foot of my bed, to the computer terminal built into the wall. I yawn, knowing what the beeps mean to tell me. I groan inwardly. _'How could I forget about that?'_

I lift myself from the bed, floating down to the floor at the doorway to my bathroom. I take a shower quickly, then don my armor and quickly depart for the elevator. The message goes unchecked, but I know what it will say. _'Monitor duty…'_

It isn't long before the elevator delivers me to my destination. If I were to be perfectly honest with myself, I'd prefer to just go back to my room and catch up on the sleep lost this past night, but it is not an option. I have a duty to my colleagues and to the people we protect.

I enter the monitor womb and find myself relieving Green Arrow. He notices my entry immediately. Then again, how could he not?

"Princess," he greets as he turns the chair to address me.

"Ollie," I return warmly.

"I'd call you a sight for sore eyes, but what I'm really looking forward to is getting back to my bed for some shut-eye. Besides, I don't think Dinah'd appreciate me saying that to you anyhow."

I try to laugh as he stands. It sounds forced, even to me. "Please don't talk about sleep right now."

"Long night?" I nod. "Mind me asking what kept you up?"

"I was with Bruce." I make sure to carefully pick my words. "We were in the manor's library, sharing a sofa and reading together when Bruce received a phone call. He had to head out for a couple hours and I made the decision to stay until he got back so I could bid him a good night." A yawn threatens to interrupt me, but I suppress it. "A part of me wishes I had just come back to retire early. Either that or that I didn't have this shift."

"You know, if you wanted…" Ollie trails off, baiting me.

"What?"

"I know a few people who might be willing to trade shifts with you, Princess." He pauses to tap his chin. "Actually, there's one in particular who could take care of your shift no _questions_ asked…"

"I don't think that's—"

"Don't worry it!" Ollie interrupts. "Question owes me, besides. I covered a shift for him the other night."

"Are you sure you don't want to save that favor for yourself?"

"Well, I wouldn't mind trading it for a favor from you. You founders have a lot more pull around here than the rest of us."

The mere prospect of sleep lets my tiredness blossom and pull at me, but still I argue. "I didn't realize we'd become bargaining chips." I pause and decide to see how serious he is. "I have to wonder what would happen if Batman were to hear about all this shift swapping…"

"Come on, Princess. No need to do anything rash. It's just a matter of convenience. Besides, sleep or no sleep, you look as tired as I feel and you know as well as I do that this job requires constant attention. How alert can you really be for the next six hours?" He lets his words sink in for a few moments. "And isn't it more important to have our most capable assets ready for a mission anyway?"

I get a few more breaths in before I release a sigh in resignation. "Fine. I'll see what I can do about keeping you out of the rotation for an extra round. Failing that, I'll cover a shift for you, but I reserve the right to refuse if I have conflicting plans with Bruce." I'm a little surprised that the last bit comes to me, but I'm satisfied with the out I've given myself.

"Done." He turns the chair back towards the monitors, glancing back for a moment before returning his attention to me. "Alright, you go ahead and get out of here. I'll stick around until Question arrives."

I nod, then thank Green Arrow before leaving the monitor womb behind almost the full six hours earlier than I expected. By the time I get back to my room, I'm nearly asleep on my feet. My door opens and my vision seems to tunnel around my bed.

I make it about halfway across the room before I just start shedding my armor one item at a time. I climb onto the bed and barely have the sense to remove my boots. An idea occurs to me as I slip back between my sheets and I manage one last coherent thought before drifting back to sleep. _'I'll have to ask Bruce if Apollo's dreams make him more tired, too.'_

My breathing evens. Each inhale and each exhale grows longer. My body relaxes while my mind sinks into darkness. It envelopes me once more in the familiar, calming realm of sleep.

When my body returns to me as I awaken, I again feel the differences. I feel a hunger that I did not bring with me to bed and know it has indeed been some time since I feel asleep. I begin to rise immediately, before the bed can tempt me as it tried earlier in the morning.

I wince. _'I hope it still is morning…'_ My eyes turn almost on their own as I begin scanning the room, not stopping until I get a clear look at the clock built into the wall beside the door. _'Well…10:27…I suppose it could be later.'_

I rise from the bed, swinging my legs out and lowering my feet to the floor to stand. I can't help but stretch once I'm up, making sure my body is limber. It'd do me no good leaving my joints stiff from oversleeping.

Once satisfied, I set about the room, picking up my carelessly discarded armor with a delicateness meant to make up for my behavior earlier. I set the collected items atop my bureau and then close my closet. Afterwards, I head for the bathroom to take a second shower and make certain that I am as awake as possible.

Once I'm done, I redress and head up to the control deck to pass the time until lunch. Mr. Terrific is at his post as usual. I spend some time assisting him as I can, handling incoming communiques from Leaguers on their way up from the surface, watching the transporter logs while looking down at the transporter pads to oversee a partial shift change—something we've been more vigilant about since the incident with the Annihilator armor.

When lunchtime finally arrives, I head for the commissary as soon as I am free. I share the elevator with Shining Knight and a few of the Watchtower's staff members. Shining Knight and I both get off for the commissary, the others continuing to ride the elevator further down.

By the time we reach the dining tables outside the commissary kitchen, I'm leading a small entourage of fellow Leaguers, though it isn't my intention. They just seem to have fallen in line with me as I walked. Once in the open room, they all spread out, a few claiming seats for themselves, a few joining friends at occupied tables.

I first find Susan, my friend and staff member, again. She sees me approaching and immediately sets about preparing me an iced mocha. She's nearly finished by the time I reach her counter, but she still has to turn her head back towards me to address me. "Good afternoon, Diana! I guess I missed you this morning."

"Sorry, I was supposed to have monitor duty, but I was pretty tired, so I traded shifts and got some extra sleep."

The young brunette nods in understanding and looks back to my mocha, moving it over to the counter between us and fetching a lid and straw for me. "Can't say I blame you. The morning shifts start at six, right?" I nod. "That's when I got up this morning. Ready for transport with nearly an hour to spare and then on the clock at eight."

"Well, fortunately monitor duty shifts are only six hours and not eight." I laugh as Susan tells me she doesn't mind, that she thinks her shifts are more fun anyhow. Before long, I've forgotten my hunger in the face of conversation.

I step aside as we keep talking so other people can get their drinks. Susan never stops working, interrupting us for just a moment to warmly greet each new Leaguer that approaches. I follow along as we each exchange greetings and they then ask for a specific drink. We continue talking all the while.

Eventually, I finish my mocha and Susan immediately offers to get me another. I take her up on it without hesitation, then bid her a good afternoon, telling her that I could probably finish an afternoon's worth of iced mochas and never realize it.

I quickly make my way around the rest of the kitchen, picking up samples of the differing styles of food. When at last I have enough, I head out into the dining area and sit with another woman who I've grown closer to over the past few months, Shayera Hol.

"Shayera," I greet warmly as I move to sit down.

"Afternoon, Diana. I heard you had a late night last night."

I sigh tiredly. "Already? I didn't see anyone but a few staffers when I got back."

"Ollie. He had monitor duty last night. He probably saw your name come up in the logs."

I smile, but it's more out of annoyance. _'More likely he knew I had the next shift and figured he might get something out of my lack of sleep.'_ "And I assume you'd like the real story to set people straight?"

"Naturally." I can see the mirth in the Thanagarian's eyes.

_'Sometimes I think she gets a little too much enjoyment out of being our unofficial ambassador.'_ I sigh, resigning myself to the inevitable. "I was with Bruce yesterday evening. We were reading in the library when Bruce got a call and then left for Metropolis for a couple hours. I stayed so I could tell him good night before coming back up to the Watchtower."

I leave out most of the details, wary of any uninformed listeners, but mostly avoiding mentioning any details about my dream, or Bruce's dreams that such talk might lead to. To my surprise, Shayera seems to take my words at face value. "Well," she begins in a quiet tone after a moment, "that might explain what I've been hearing about Superman."

"What do you mean?"

"Not sure, really. I haven't seen him yet today, but just about everyone I've talked to this morning asked about him. The general consensus seems to be that he seems a bit off."

"How so?"

"'Distracted' seems to be the favorite word. I'm guessing the two of them had some choice words for each other."

At that, I remember Bruce's phone call from Lois. I never did take the opportunity to ask about their conversation and we were too distracted by my dream for it to come up after Bruce got back. I nod almost without thinking.

"I take it you know a little more than I do?"

"…Not really. I forgot to ask about what happened when he got back."

"Well, maybe you can ask about it later today. I haven't heard about any of us planning to miss the meeting this evening."

I nod in agreement before the pair of us spend some time on our meals. We carry on a little small talk before we both finish eating. Shayera leaves first, finding herself suddenly tasked with leading an aid mission as we begin to stand. I offer to take her tray for her, letting her hurry back to the transporters.

Left alone in a sea of colleagues, I empty our trays and head back to the elevator. I spend the afternoon ambling my way about the Watchtower. I spend some more time on the control deck, helping Mr. Terrific for a while again and then head down to the lower decks. I spend nearly an hour assisting an engineering crew after I stumble across them, helping them to move equipment and with some assembly work as they replace worn components in the Watchtower's air recyclers.

Even as I busy myself helping others, I spend my time torn between wishing there were a mission for me to go out on and being glad that things are so peaceful. The only thing on my schedule today is that founders' meeting and the wait for it to begin is maddening. It amazes me that, when 5:30 nearly rolls around, I find myself nearly late for it.

J'onn interrupts my walk. _'Diana,'_ I hear him say in my mind, _'we are nearly ready to begin.'_

I nearly curse aloud. _'I'll be there soon. How much time do I have?'_ I reply mentally.

_'It is nearly 5:25. Superman says he would like to begin within the next five minutes.'_

I spend a moment looking around. Five minutes shouldn't be hard. I know where I am, I don't expect anything to delay me. _'Alright, I should arrive in time,'_ I answer.

J'onn acknowledges me as I turn towards the elevator and then begin a brisk walk back around the deck. The walk is short and as I step into the elevator, I hope that no one will be taking the elevator back up. I nearly luck out. The elevator stops on Dormitory Deck A and I end up unsurprised but happy to find myself joined by Flash.

He steps into the elevator amidst a red blur and shows me a warm, friendly smile. "Next stop: top floor, sporting goods, the gift shop, and a conference table."

The joke earns a hearty laugh from me. "It's good to see you, too, Wally."

"Yeah, same for me. Can't say I'm looking forward to this, though."

"Why not?"

Flash waves his hand nonchalantly. "Ehh, you know me. They're just sort of depressing. I can be serious if I need to be, but sometimes Supes just takes it too far. Hope you don't mind if I try to keep discussions light in there."

I smile back at Wally when he turns to me. "Of course. I guess I could use it as well."

He turns with a hint of apprehension. "Bats get you down?"

He catches me unprepared. "What? No. No, not at all. It's just…" I can't tell him about the dreams. "It's just been a long, boring day."

"Oh. Really?" The elevator doors open. "You should have let me know, Diana. I've got a ton more movies in my room. There's a break room down on B that just got a _great_ new TV."

We step out of the elevator together and Wally sidesteps to wait for my reply. "Sounds like it'd be a lot better than that marathon in the monitor womb."

"Yeah…that wasn't so good of an idea, though it does have one of the biggest screens up here. Still, the look on Bats' face when he saw was _so_ worth it!"

We share a laugh as we come up to the door to the founders' conference room. The door begins to open automatically for us and Flash gives me a jovial, two-fingered salute before zipping past me and to his seat. I follow him inside and take my seat between a fully-costumed Bruce and Wally.

"Ok. Now that we're all here…" Superman begins, taking on the roles of moderator and facilitator as each of us share the details of our past week.

Bruce stays mostly quiet, looking across the table blankly until Kal brings attention to him. When called, he simply reports that he's been able to handle Gotham on his own and notes a resource issue with semiconductor production that will impact maintenance if engineering isn't careful.

I know J'onn well enough to know he won't spend the meeting peeking into each of our minds. Even so, I spend most of my idle time thinking of Kal, trying to see if I can spot the oddities about him that Shayera spoke of. For the most part, he seems fine. Normal.

Finally, I get but one hint that all might not be right. Coincidentally, it's when Shayera goes over what she has heard from or been asked by the rest of the League in the past week. He delays, but it's not from hesitation. It seems like he isn't paying attention. Distracted, just as Shayera said.

I glance towards Bruce, look for any hint that he noticed as well, but his face is as stoic as it usually is under the cowl. If only he would say something or lift the cowl, then I'd be able to get a read of his thoughts.

Giving up, I turn forward again and keep an eye on Kal through the rest of the meeting, but he doesn't give any more hints that anything is out of the ordinary. I'm actually the last to my feet when he eventually calls an end to our session.

I immediately look for Bruce when I notice and find him already in the open doorway, ahead of even Flash. The others begin to file out and I stand to leave as well.

"Ahh, Diana?" I stop, turn to find Kal addressing me. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course, Kal." If anything, this is what I want—an opportunity to find out what happened with Bruce and Kal last night. I had already planned to chase Bruce down to ask, but Kal won't try so hard to dodge my questions.

The door closes after J'onn and John exit the room, giving us a moment of privacy between friends. I return to the table and walk around to sit in Wally's chair, a seat closer to Krypton's last son than normal. "What's on your mind, Kal?" I ask as he returns to his seat and sits back down.

"Well…" He makes no effort to continue, his hesitation nearly tangible. He avoids my eyes for a few moments, then finally closes his eyes and turns his head back towards me. "…I wanted to ask what sort of restaurants you liked going to with Bruce."

The question confuses me. _'That was far too much hesitation for that easy a question…'_ My expression shifts with a mix of concern and anxiousness. "Why do you ask?"

He sighs with apparent exhaustion and leans back, looking towards the ceiling. "I reached out to Lois again. She agreed to go on a date, so I wanted to take her somewhere nice for dinner."

I nod and then prop my head up on my left arm as I lean over the table and start to think back. "Well, Gotham Delizioso was really nice, but then again, it's where Bruce and I had our first date. I'm keeping that for us, so it's off limits." Kal laughs and I smile before thinking of the other places we've gone.

"Paris means a lot to us, too, but about two months ago, Bruce and I ate at a restaurant in the Eiffel Tower. Ahh...Le Jules Verne. The food was really good, but I most enjoyed being there with Bruce. After dinner, we went up to the top of the tower and spent some time looking out at the city."

My mind goes back to that evening, to the kiss we shared after watching the moon reemerge from behind a few clouds. "It was really nice…memorable…"

"Do you think I could afford it?" Kal's question surprises me, but not as much as the chuckle preceding it. I must have said that last bit aloud without realizing it.

"I guess it depends who you're going to be for the date." I can see his confusion. "Are you taking her out as Superman or as Clark Kent?"

"Oh. Yeah. Superman, I guess." The answer clearly embarrasses him. "I…haven't told her who I am yet."

Before I can think any better, I slam my left hand against the table, tipping it—nearly flipping it upright as I shoot to my feet, knocking my chair back and over as I stand. "_What?_" I demand.

My response startles the Man of Steel and he holds his hands up defensively, gently motioning with them to try to get me to settle down. "Whoa! Diana, calm down!"

I turn away angrily, barely cognizant as Kal catches the conference table before it can crash back down to the floor. "That was your whole problem, Kal!" I turn back, make sure he is looking at me. "You convinced her to try dating again, how long do you think that'll last before she can't help but question how much you trust her again?"

"I know, I know!" I can hear the guilt in his voice. He puts a palm to his forehead and gives a joyless grin while shaking his head. "Did Bruce talk to you about this?"

I feel my anger fade rapidly. _'Was this why Bruce went to Metropolis?'_ "No. Why?" I pause, waiting for an answer, but add before he can speak, "I only know what you told me when Lois called it off beforehand and that last night she called Bruce and then he left for Metropolis for a couple hours."

"Yeah, that was it." There's a certain sadness in his voice, a disappointment about him that I'm not sure if he's directing at Bruce or himself. "He had me meet him and he…told me to trust that…others sometimes know what's best." To see him fumbling with words surprises me. It makes me wonder what Bruce _really_ said.

"Well, I can't say I disagree with him, Kal."

"Yeah, I know. The more I thought about it, the better I feel about it. It's just that it was a…painful truth to hear."

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

"That's really my problem," he admits. He takes his seat again and I start to do the same before remembering that I knocked it away.

I cross the room quickly to carry the chair back to the table. "I'm not so sure that Lois would believe me if I showed up as Clark Kent and just said 'hi, Lois, I'm Superman' and I think the reverse would go over just about as well."

"Why not?"

He lets slip a tired sigh. "Because I've spent nearly every day since I moved to Metropolis trying to convince the world that Clark Kent and Superman are separate people."

"Alright, well, what have you been thinking of doing instead?"

"I do have a couple ideas…" I lean a little closer to convey my curiosity. He flashes an almost wry smile and says, "I could always duck into a phone booth and change."

I don't waste a breath waiting for an explanation. "That's a _horrible_ idea." My blunt response embarrasses Kal and he seems to shrink back into his chair.

"Yeah, I know. Just a joke to lighten the mood."

I sigh with disappointment. "Well, I think the best thing would be for you to just tell her and worry about how to prove yourself if she asks. So, go on your date and if you just don't feel comfortable with that, I'll see what I can do to help."

He looks back at me and gives me the first genuinely happy smile since we started our conversation. "Thanks, Diana. I'll give it a shot. Might have to wait a few days before you find out how it went, though. Our dinner date isn't until next Monday."

I nod in acknowledgement and stand. "I'll certainly be looking forward to hearing how it went."

Superman stands as well. "Heading out?"

"Yeah, I want to see if I can catch up to Bruce at the manor. Hopefully I can get there in time for dinner."

"Certainly sounds good."

I nod enthusiastically and Kal gets a good laugh from my response. After, we exchange our goodbyes as I move towards the door. I leave my friend behind in the conference room with his thoughts after he declines walking back to the elevator with me.

I find myself waiting longer than I'd like for the elevator to arrive, but each additional moment only leaves me looking forward to spending the evening with Bruce even more. When it finally arrives and the doors open, I step inside eagerly and press the buttons for the transporter deck and the elevator's doors in rapid succession.

Before long, I step out of the elevator to make my way across the deck towards the transporter pads. I stop at the control console to tell the on-duty technician I'm going to Wayne Manor in Gotham and he smiles at me while activating the modern marvel of transportation.

I step up onto the pad when I see the gentle glow around the active unit. As the lights of the transporter begin to surround me, all I can think of is the company that awaits me and the simple, romantic evening I'm envisioning we'll share.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.

Second test of my new Wednesday posting rule. I almost broke this into two chapters, but decided to keep writing (wanted to hit the conversation with Superman). This chapter has definitely benefited from the extra week.


	3. Escape

******Author's Note:** Yet another chapter that benefited from an extra week. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

* * *

"It was _not_ payback." I grind my teeth behind closed lips. _'Why am I sitting here defending myself about this?'_

"Ohh, come on, Bruce. You and I both know he assaulted you in the Watchtower. You even lived through it an extra two—well, you experienced it a second time in your first dream. You can _not_ sit there and tell me you weren't thinking about it when you pulled the kryptonite on him!"

I groan loudly in frustration. I don't want to admit that she's right, let alone admit I went so far as to tell Clark that I was pushing him into an elevator to make a point, but the noise escaping my throat near enough does my voice's job for me. "Why couldn't you just talk to him normally? Say what you went there to say and then leave?—By Hera, Bruce, _you're_ the one who made sure we all have communicators! You didn't really even have to go to Metropolis. We could have had the rest of the evening to ourselves. All you had to do was patch into the League's channels or just call him on the phone!"

"You know I would have had no idea what to say to you if I hadn't run into Clark first, right?" Diana stops, looks back at me with interest enough to keep me from stopping. "I knew I had to follow after you, find some way to appeal your resignation in person. Yes, I knew I couldn't let myself walk away anymore, but what to actually say—how to express myself—hadn't even crossed my mind until Kent had me against a wall and demanded to know how much more damage I intended to cause you."

"And so, to get him thinking about what to say to Lois, you just _had_ to try to kill him?"

"The kryptonite was real, but the threat was hypothetical!" I turn away from Diana for a moment, glance towards the nearby window. "Can't argue with the results…"

"_Results?_" she asks, incredulous. She laughs. If not for this argument, I'd have a hard time finding it anything but attractive. "Yeah, four dates in half as many weeks and Kal still hasn't told Lois that he's Clark Kent. _That's_ results…"

"Well, at least they're dating…"

"And that's not going to last if they don't solve the underlying problem."

"Which is our business…why again?"

"Because Kal is my friend and, last I heard, he's yours, too." Diana averts her gaze and her expression sours. "Besides, you already _are_ involved in this."

Another groan escapes me. "Are you ever going to let me live that call down?" Diana replies with an almost scornful humph. "She was _years_ before there was ever a Justice League, _years_ before I ever met you, and I'd long since put whatever I may have felt for her behind me by the time we met," I can't help but protest.

"Oh, that's not what I'm after, Bruce. You could have just told me about that promise or told me what you were going to do in Metropolis. Instead, you kept it to yourself—hid it from _me_." She pauses, lets herself calm. "Bruce, I just wish you would make a better effort to keep me in the loop when it comes to your past love lives. I'd rather know than not." Realization dawns that we're actually having two arguments at once.

"Is that why you told me about meeting Steve Trevor in the past and again after you got back? Because I _really_ enjoyed that." I shoot back sarcastically before I can stop myself.

As if to match mine, her anger comes back in a flash. "Yes! I wanted you to understand _exactly_ how I felt being blindsided by hearing about your…_fling_ with Lois, what I felt for even the brief moment I thought you and Zatanna were ever more than friends!"

That's not something I want to answer, not even to correct. "And so you would have just…let me go if I'd told you what I was planning to do and why?" Diana starts to answer, but hesitates. "See? I knew you would have objected the moment I told you."

"Oh!" she laughs. "So you admit you've known this whole time that it was wrong?" Diana folds her arms and sits back in her chair. "How else would you like to explain dodging my questions for the past _eleven days_?"

"And where would they be if not for my reminder? I specifically asked him what he would regret leaving undone if I left him alone with the kryptonite to die. It's a little harder to think about that when you're not in the right mindset," I argue back. I nearly let myself stop. "And didn't _we_ learn that it's better to _try_ than to just keep passing each other by? Is the _impetus_ really all that important?"

Diana backs down and sighs in exasperation. "Fine. Just…try to remember this the next time you decide that giving one of our friends advice entails threatening bodily harm..." She calms further, relaxes. "I'm sure two minds can come up with better ideas than one. Ok, Bruce?"

I begin to nod, thankful for the apparent end to the conversation, but stop myself and smirk. An idea comes to mind and I really hope that Diana takes to the shift in topic that I intend. "You know, I think yesterday evening is going to be pretty easy to remember…"

Surprise crosses her features for a moment, but it vanishes quickly as I see her remember what I mean. She leans closer to me with a sultry smile, her eyes narrowing just slightly as the smile touches her cheeks. I can see the memories reflected in the depths of her eyes, the two of us laying atop one another on the sofa in the library, making out like a pair of adolescent teenagers.

My mind visits the same memories. We'd spent some time at each other's lips, lavishing one another with passion. Eventually, I'd taken to exploring where I could. I can vividly remember the taste of her skin as I'd kissed my way across the edge of her jaw, down her neck, and onto her bare shoulder. I remember the alluring aroma from her hair, the scent that filled my mind when I went for the base of her neck and buried my nose in her sheets of sable. I remember the emboldening hitch in her breath when I'd used my teeth to give her skin the tiniest of nips in between two particular kisses.

I'm leaning closer to Diana with each resurfacing memory. Despite the angles and gap between our chairs, our lips are only inches from each other, almost perfectly aligned, as if seeking each other without needing our intervention. "And can you think of any reason _this_ evening might become memorable?" Diana asks, nearly breathes as I stare at her lips and imagine their soft warmth against me.

"We're both resourceful adults and I'm counting the time before I have to leave in hours instead of minutes. So, I'm sure something will come up…"

A knowing laugh escapes Diana's throat, but it doesn't quite get past her smile. A moment later, her hands are on my shoulders, pushing me back into my chair. Having been on the edge of my seat for our heated debate, I nearly sink into the expensive piece of furniture.

In barely more than a breath, Diana is afloat above me and lowering herself slowly closer. Before her eyes slowly close, I spot a predatory, nearly possessive glint shining within them. It's the next step in our dance of intimacy, the subtle game mixing equality and dominance that our first kiss started without either of us realizing.

It transcends each singular encounter we share. It encompasses the whole of our relationship thus far and, I'm sure and I hope, for years to come. Its rules and caveats grow clearer as our moments of togetherness skirt gradually closer to the realms of a truly intimate relationship.

Tonight will be for Diana's wants. Happy to give her a fair turn after yesterday's events, I put up no argument, embracing her decision as her lips press hungrily against mine.

Her knees come down on either side of me and I feel added pressure from her hands on my shoulders as she comes fully out of the air. After a moment, she pulls her lips away just far enough and just long enough to whisper, "Bruce..."

As she gives me her lips once more, I eagerly respond to her implicit demand, placing my hands atop the middle of her thighs, against the fabric of her dress pants. I spend a moment idly rubbing my hands in small circles across the silken fabric and the warmth of Diana's leg just beyond it. She responds with an appreciative moan against me, the hum spreading pleasantly over my lips and straight to my head.

We're both dressed fairly formally, having recently returned from a restaurant in downtown Gotham. Initially, I was a little surprised to see Diana come out of her room wearing what amounted to a very professional dark women's suit, but I could never argue with the effect.

She had caught me staring more than once during our dinner date and had been as much flattered as embarrassed by my extra attention. Only the silver bands peeking out from beneath her cuffs and her well-known, unmistakable visage ever gave away that she was anything but an ordinary businesswoman. That's not to mention my presence and our widely-known relationship.

Diana's hands begin to move away from my shoulders. Her left travels up, her fingers weaving into my hair. She strokes the side and back of my head for a short time before her hand falls still. She wraps her fingers around behind my head, nearly cradling it as our kiss continues. Meanwhile, her right hand moves to the center of my chest. After a moment, it glides slowly down. The shape of her hand against my chest seems to change, growing smaller, and when I feel my jacket loosening, I realize that she's unfastening its buttons.

I feel the tip of Diana's tongue between my lips as we both close our lips against each other. Her breathing pauses for a moment when I tighten my lips around her and rub the underside of her tongue with my own. She sucks in a quick, sharp breath and practically purrs against me, something that might have been anywhere between a hum and moan of pleasure if not for my mouth muffling her.

I moan back when Diana reaches further, hooking her tongue under my upper lip and gripping me between it and her own lip. With a slight suck, she pulls it gently before withdrawing her tongue. Her lower lip takes its place and she caresses my lip between hers, her tongue returning to glide back and forth across my lip while I try to return the favor and capture her lower lip with mine.

As I try, I feel her fingers slip under my dress shirt in between two of the buttons. I answer her with my own hands, letting my fingers fall to the outsides of her thighs and sliding my hands up towards her hips, my thumbs hooking around over the tops of her legs.

I let my hands linger for a moment at the tops of her legs, then slide them back down a few inches. I run my hands in small circles for a moment, then reach back, my palms almost entirely on the backsides of her thighs, my fingers reaching around to her inner thighs.

Her answer is quick and muffled against my mouth. I might not be quite sure if she approves or disapproves of my boldness if not for her body moving in response as well. As she again pulls at my lip, she drops herself down against me, her stomach onto mine, her breasts pressing against my chest, her hand pressed tighter against my skin below them, and her legs closing as she bends lower, my hands soon trapped snugly between thigh and calf.

I do the only thing I can with my hands, rubbing my fingers up and down and in circles against her legs, eliciting a long, drawn out moan of appreciation and sending a few tiny shivers through Diana. She lifts her lips from mine. We open our eyes, both of us pausing to take a moment and regard each other.

The stillness, the silence hangs heavy over us. Finally, Diana breaks it, her voice an easy whisper, "What now?"

I don't know how to answer. Despite the desire welling within me, I'm nervous. I know how to stand tall staring evil in the face, how to put my life on the line for the greater good, how to remain confident when the odds are against me, but here? Even the flippancy of the playboy cannot help me now. There is nothing about my relationship with Diana that I want to take lightly.

For weeks, we've silently asked each other this same question. We've teased each other with our bodies. We've let our behavior suggest the idea. We've let the silences hang over us, as it does now, our hesitation nearly as telling as our willingness to allow interruptions. Tonight is the first time either of us has given the question voice. A part of me is glad Diana was the one to break down and ask aloud, but at the same time, the onus of response now lies with me.

My thoughts are interrupted at the sound of a doorknob. I can't help but feel relieved by the distraction. Diana and I both turn our heads as the door opens. It comes as no surprise to see Alfred coming in.

"Oh! _Terribly _sorry to interrupt—"

"No, Alfred." Diana begins to sit upright. I turn to her as she speaks and my imagination immediately goes wild with the image of her, straddling my waist, leaning a little forward, her hands low on my chest. "It's ok."

Alfred hesitates, but nods in response. He turns to me. "Master Bruce, Gotham calls." It's exactly what I expected to hear since the moment I knew he was entering the room. It pulls me back to reality, but again, I'm hesitant.

"Sorry," I finally tell Diana.

She returns her focus to me. She gives me a shy, almost embarrassed smile. "I guess I'm not so sure that I'm ready yet either." Her hand goes to the arm of my chair and she lifts herself, freeing my hands before lowering her feet to the floor in front of my chair.

I lift myself to my feet after. We stand in silence for a few breaths, barely more than a foot from each other. Diana extends her forearms towards me. I do the same and we glide our hands up to each other's elbows.

"I know, Bruce. It's ok," she seems to say out of the blue. My expression must be more apologetic than I realized.

"Sorry, Diana," I repeat. "It isn't that I don't—"

"But there's a proper time and place for everything. It's not here or now, right, Bruce? I understand that."

I can't trust my voice with a response, afraid I'll repeat myself yet again. Instead I lean towards Diana and close my eyes to convey my intent. I see her begin to lean closer as my vision narrows down to nothing. It's only a moment more before our lips meet.

It's a slow kiss that we share. Our lips move gently against each other as we kiss at each other's lips. It's…satisfying. The delicate brush of Diana's lips feels like a clearer, firmer affirmation of our love and affections than the most desperate and energetic of kisses, making such a kiss seem like a simple, base act of lust in comparison. I kiss Diana back the same way, hoping to convey the same reassurances.

When we separate, it's as slow as our lips. Our eyes open nearly together. We gaze lovingly at one another. I can feel the desire begin to build again. It doesn't take long to realize that the longer I stay, the greater the risk that I'll never want to leave again.

Diana saves me with a smile. She releases my arms, slides her hands down to take mine. "Gotham calls, right? You'd better go."

I give her hands a gentle squeeze and rub my thumbs against the backs of her palms. "Yeah." I don't want to ask where she'll asleep. _'I don't want to know she won't be here when I get back.'_ I smile back as we release our hands. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Tomorrow."

We remain still and silent for a moment. Before it can shift from pleasant to uncomfortable and awkward, I speak up again. "I love you, Diana."

Her smile brightens and I can't help but feel my heart swell at the sight of its brilliance. "I love you, too, Bruce. Good night."

"Good night, Diana. Sleep well," I bid as I turn. I know she'll stay for a short while before leaving. _'Can't say I'd mind walking her out to the door to see her off.'_

I turn to find an empty doorway. Stepping out into the hallway, I find Alfred waiting for me patiently. I give him a nod, indicating at the same time my readiness and that I've left Diana to herself in the sitting room.

He turns with me as we begin walking towards the study. "I expect Master Tim will need your help, sir. He reported stumbling across Miss Quinn and that he's on her trail after dispatching her lackeys."

"_What?_ Where are they?"

"Master Tim first encountered the group along the Gotham River, but he has since been chasing Harley towards the Bayside district."

"Bayside?" _'Did Joker set himself up in a warehouse?'_ It fits that Harley would flee to wherever Joker is hiding. _'...like she did it in Vegas.'_ She wouldn't have had lackeys following her around if she were working with Ivy. I look back to Alfred. "Is the Batwing ready to deploy?"

"Of course, Master Bruce."

I pick up my pace, making good time across the manor to reach the study. I've left Alfred far behind by the time I get the grandfather clock open. He doesn't catch back up until I finish putting my Batsuit on.

I'm nearly across the Batcave when Alfred calls to me from the Batcomputer. "Sir, Master Tim is reporting in. I'm relaying him to your cowl."

A moment later, I hear Tim in my ear, mid-word as he continues his report. "Robin," I quickly interrupt.

"Batman!" Surprise, certainly some relief as well.

"Situation." I climb up into the Batwing and quickly close the canopy.

I begin my preflight checks. "I've been following Harley for a while now. I let her lead me back to a warehouse in Bayside. Roof access is clear. I can see Joker and Harley talking below me. There are about…two dozen goons. At least six are armed, lookouts. The rest are moving barrels and cargo crates around inside." Tim falls silent.

"Whoa!" I hear Tim exclaim. A moment later, the channel is flooded with the sounds of rapid gunfire.

"Robin!" I finish my checks and look up to the Batwing's access tunnel while pushing forward on the throttle. "Robin, report!"

I hear a groan across the line and then what sounds like glass. "Sorry." Tim's voice is nearly a whisper. "Joker gave Harley a good slap, knocked her right off her feet, then pulled out a semi-automatic and fired up at the skylights. Looked like a machine pistol. The windows are all gone."

There's a momentary pause as I meanwhile clear the exterior cliff entrance and it begins to close behind me. "He and the armed guards are keeping an eye on the roof now. It'll be a lot harder getting in from above. Now Joker's heading into the warehouse office. Harley's picking herself up. Wow, she's going after him. …I'll never understand how she can be so devoted to him."

"Robin, focus." I turn towards the Bayside district and make my way around towards it, coming at it in a wide arc to keep the GCPD blimps from figuring out my point of origin. "I'm in the air. Look for another way in, but hold position outside. Keep this channel open, I'll follow your signal in."

"Got it, Batman."

The minutes agonize me as they slowly pass. Joker's plotting something. I need to know what it is. I need to stop him before he can accomplish whatever twisted goal he has in mind.

Eventually, I'm close enough to slow down. I pull up a little and activate the Batwing's vertical thrusters, leveling off as I slow to a midair stop. I reach forward and open the direct link back to the cave. The communication screen lights up, filling with Alfred's image. "Jumping now. Recall the Batwing and standby."

"Of course, sir."

I close the channel, and then hit the canopy controls. It opens above me and I climb up and onto the fuselage of my jet. Looking below, I can see the shattered glass skylights, but Robin isn't anywhere in sight. I grit my teeth and jump towards the warehouse roof.

"Robin, report," I order before reaching for my cape. It opens without issue, slowing my descent and letting me guide myself to a safe landing on the corner of the warehouse roof.

Robin's answer begins while I'm still airborne. "Batman, there's a service entrance on the east side of the building that's unguarded. They aren't paying attention here, it won't be a problem getting inside."

_'Here? He went in against my orders...'_ I stay low and quickly make my way to the opposite end of the warehouse roof. "Where are you?"

"Alleyway beside the door. You'll see me. It's clear." I can't hold back a relieved sigh. I'm more than glad he proved my assumption wrong. The only person on my team I trust going against Joker alone is myself. I can't run the risk of anyone else confronting him without reliable backup. _'And even then…'_

I glance down over the edge of the roof and quickly spot Robin. My feet leave the roof after only a moment's time spent processing the information. Seconds later, my cape billows out around me as I land on the ground opposite the door from Robin and sink into a crouch. We trade confirming nods and he then points to a small window at about eye level in the door.

I rise slowly to my feet and edge towards the window. There's a small entryway on the other side and it seems to be empty, just as Robin reported. I glance to my partner and turn my head down towards him with the slightest of nods as I reach for the door's handle, knowing he will follow.

The door opens almost silently, just one squeak that I hasten the door through as I open it enough for myself and for Robin to follow me inside. The entryway is just as I expected. There's an air duct at floor level that I couldn't see from the window. There's a door opposite the one we entered through, leading into the rest of the warehouse. The only window is the one in the exterior door.

I turn to Robin, find him looking back, awaiting instructions. I lift my left hand to my face, tapping my cowl beside the lenses, then motion down to the duct. Robin nods and pulls out a compact automatic screwdriver, which he uses to unfasten the vent cover. He climbs in quickly and disappears within.

Once he's out of sight, I turn towards the door and lift my left hand to my cowl, quickly finding the exterior controls for the computerized lenses. The display comes to life, interface overlaying raw image. With a combination of button presses and eye movements, a small black screen appears in the upper left quadrant of my left eye's lens.

The wait is short enough. The black image gives way to a lighted scene, the inside of the warehouse. I see some of the armed thugs Robin reported and a number of the unarmed workers. The image begins to pan to the right and I eventually see a small, unlit section of the room, the outline of a door barely visible.

It's a sure bet that I'm looking at the other side of the door in front of me, a bet made surer when Robin gives the camera a quick shake up and down, giving me a quick glimpse of the slats of the vent cover he's found himself behind now. The shadows stretch nearly around the entire outside of the warehouse's interior. Stacks of crates look to provide more cover, but at the same time, obscure my view of the whole room.

Robin pans the camera back to the left. Before long, I'm looking at the warehouse's office. Once I slip past the door, it will be the whole back right corner of the ground floor. I can see human-shaped shadows moving in the windows, but the panes themselves are covered in something, preventing me from clearly seeing the figures beyond.

I slide my fingers back across my cowl to the ear. "Robin, switch to thermal imaging," I say quietly. I slide my fingers back to activate the thermal camera in my cowl's right lens. Its image soon replaces my vision. Robin's camera feed shifts similarly. My fingers return to the ear of my cowl. "Four pellet spread."

I reach for the door and take a deep breath. "Now." The camera shifts twice as Robin throws the smoke pellets two at a time.

It isn't long before the thugs begin to panic. I can see the flurry of activity in Robin's feed. I can hear the shouting through the door. _'Now, while the smoke is still thick enough!'_

I release my bated breath and quickly open the door, slipping out of the entryway and into the shadows of the warehouse floor. I immediately close in one of the armed thugs and grab him from behind. My arms close around his neck, my left hand covering his mouth to keep him silent.

I can feel him slackening as my grip tightens and he passes out, but his gun drops from his hands, landing on the floor with a clang. Immediately, the others begin to focus on me. I can hear it in the startled responses and see it on both thermal images. Too late to be angry for my mistake, I reach down, quickly grabbing the gun before slipping deeper into the smoke. As I begin moving, I drop a smoke pellet of my own by my feet and throw a second towards the door.

I dismantle the weapon before depositing it atop a stack of crates. The useless weapon out of my way, I make my way around the stack to assault another thug, planting my knee in his gut. I leave him gasping for breath and doubling over towards the floor as a second armed crony draws closer.

In a single motion like the crack of a whip, I fetch a grapnel from my belt with my right hand, raise it, level my arm off, and fire. The two forward-facing points of the bat-shaped grapnel embed themselves in the man's chest and he responds with a shout. I silence him with a quick press of the button on the side of the grapnel, sending a pulse of electricity down the line and into his chest.

As he drops, I retract the line and return the gadget to my belt to give it time to recharge. At the same time, I deliver a knockout blow to the man recovering at my feet. I begin to stand back up, reaching for a tethered batarang after reattaching the grapnel. I spin back and whip the batarang back and to my left even before I stop moving.

The line hits the arm of another unarmed thug, pulling at the batarang and sending it into a sort of decaying orbit around him and the man beside him, forcing them against one another and tying them together. As they fall to the floor, gunfire fills the room. I drop to a crouch by the stack of crates beside me.

Robin's feed pans quickly towards the origin of the hail of bullets fanning across the warehouse floor. I get good views on three of the remaining four armed goons. There's a brief reprieve as the gunmen begin taunting me, trying to lure me out of hiding.

_'Since they're asking so nicely…'_ I spin up and out from my cover, letting three batarangs fly in rapid succession. They sail out and I hear the satisfying panic as one of the gunmen tosses his batarang-plugged gun aside and throws his hands up in surrender. I rush forward, keeping an eye out for the final gunman as I run. I'm across the room in a flash and quickly neutralize the still-armed men before deploying a coil of line to restrain the formerly-armed man.

Robin's feed switches back from the thermal image and I see that the smoke is nearly gone. I block a punch from one of the unarmed workers, then grab him by the shoulders and hurl him into two more as they approach. I deftly switch off the thermal image in my cowl before any of the small fry quickly surrounding me can make their own ill-advised attempt at attacking.

I launch my fist forward at the nearest would-be attacker, the punch landing squarely on the man's jaw. As he reels back in pain, I grab his shoulder and punch him in the gut, then pull him towards me and to my left, throwing him to the ground beside me and causing his fallen form to trip one of his friends as he goes to set his foot down where the man falls.

I spin, catching a fist just before it hits, then direct it over my shoulder as I continue to turn, flipping the man over my back and delivering a solid punch to knock him out as I lay him out beside me. I drop my hand to the floor a moment later and lift my foot, kicking one of the men behind me in the kidney and sending him to his knees.

I lift myself quickly back up, noticing Robin's feed has gone dark. I turn to the nearest man and deliver a flurry of punches to his gut, then slam my open-palmed right hand home against his chest, knocking the man back and sending him to the floor in a heap. Two more come at me at once, both with their fists at the ready.

I raise my arms, deflecting both strikes before reaching past the outstretched arms and grabbing both men by the head. In an instant of clarity, one of the two closes his eyes and grits his teeth against the inevitable. A moment later, I slam their heads together, just hard enough to knock both out.

A high kick to the side of the next thug's head is enough to render him unconscious the moment he hits the floor. Another tries to kick at my feet, but I bend down, catching the foot in my right hand. Lifting myself and his leg with my hand, I flip the goon up into the air. With his back exposed in mid-air, I spin around, delivering a hard kick to the center of his back, sending him flying back to land on his stomach a few feet away.

I drop to the floor as I bring my foot back down, leaving it extended and sweeping the floor with my extended leg, managing to knock two men to their hands and knees. I reverse direction quickly, extending my elbow and managing to knock one man out before lifting myself back to my feet to assault another before he can attack.

I spot Robin in my peripheral vision, taking on two men, four more unconscious at his feet, the sixth gun near one of the downed men. My newest target meanwhile crumples and I swiftly move to assist Robin. I reach down with my left arm, grabbing one of the men focused on my young partner by the left knee. I grab his shoulder as I pull him off his feet. I step away, putting a little distance between myself and Robin, then spin once before releasing the man, sending him sailing into a stack of cargo crates, a few breaking during the impact before they all collapse atop him.

I let Robin take down the last thug before scanning the room once more. Save the unconscious and those neutralized by pain or by one of my lines, the warehouse is empty. I still see a human shadow in the office windows and make my way over without a word. Should any of the conscious try anything in my absence, I'm confident Robin will be able to handle them.

Hoping myself prepared for anything and everything the Joker might throw at me, I yank the door open and find only Joker half-standing over an office chair. Harley is nowhere in sight. The back of the chair is facing me. His left foot is on the floor, his right knee in the chair's seat. His left wrist is resting on the back of his hip, its hand hidden from view. His right arm is resting across the top of the chair's back. He's staring at me with a toothy grin, something so familiar, so unnerving in its confidence. My face twists into a scowl.

"Evening, _Bats_! Have to say you're a bit early, but no matter, I'll be glad to give you the scuttlebutt on this little prologue if you think you can ask nicely enough."

I step away from the door, letting it close behind me as I step towards the middle of the room. "What are you playing at, Joker?"

"A grand spectacle! The show of a lifetime! You could even say…a production to die for…"

I take a step closer as he begins to laugh quietly. "I'll stop you. I'll put you back in Arkham where you can't hurt anyone."

He begins cackling, that awful sound that's haunted me for years. I take another confident step forward and notice Joker look at my feet before looking back up to my face. "You're too late to stop me tonight, Batman. Everything here that I needed is long gone. You can only stall me now."

"Not if I take you down here." I take another step forward and Joker straightens, whipping his left hand out from behind his back.

I see a remote of some kind in his hand and step back automatically. "No!" Joker shouts as I move. He throws the chair aside and rushes right at me, the remote still in hand. I bend my knees, preparing myself to catch whatever blow he attempts to deliver and plant his face in the floor.

Before he can get to me, the floor where I was standing opens up when his foot lands atop it. I watch as Joker begins falling through. My surprise quickly transforms into anger when I get a quick glimpse of the crooked grin plastered across his face. A moment later, his head disappears beneath the floor. The trap door closes back up and I'm left alone with only Joker's laughter bleeding up through the floor.

I immediately pivot towards the latching side of the trapdoor and stomp down on it. _'He wanted me…'_ A second stomp. _'to think…'_ A third stomp. _'the trapdoor…'_ A fourth stomp. _'was for me!'_ A fifth attempt and the door still doesn't budge. I can hear Joker's laugh beginning to fade.

I crouch down beside it and reach into my belt for my frequency emitter. I try to be thorough as I scan through the frequency range, trying to hit the same frequency as Joker's remote, but he proves himself smarter than I'd prefer giving him credit for. He's somehow disabled the remote system from below.

I feel the air against my teeth and realize that they are bared with my anger. I stow my frequency emitter and remove the heels from my boots. From the left heel I remove a block of plastique and split it in half. I remove a pair of detonators from my right heel and then empty the gel from it onto the hinge and latch of the trap door.

Hurriedly, I press the two blocks of plastique into the gel and slap the detonators over the top, then dash to the other side of the room while opening the front plate of my utility belt. I crouch and press the detonator switch on the inside of my belt. The twin explosions rip through the room nearly as one.

I turn the moment I'm sure it's safe and see the opened floor. The door is gone, maybe thrown out of sight by the blast, maybe vanished down the chute I see as I approach. Fearing that I might be too late, I jump into the chute, sliding down it at breakneck speed. The chute goes almost straight down nearly two yards before bending, nearly leveling off before depositing me in the old sewer after about ten yards more.

The splash as I land in the filthy water is loud and, to my chagrin, it's loud enough for Joker to hear. His laugh fills the sewer as I get back to my feet. I can't tell what direction the laughter is coming from.

I take a chance, turning left and following the sewer until it hits a four-way intersection. The laughter has stopped. I have no idea what direction he could have fled.

I stand in the middle of the sewer's four-way intersection, silent and nearly still. My fists quiver at my sides as my fury threatens to boil over. _'All I did was prove him right. I let him distract me—trick me! I could have stopped him. I should have known! I should have gone forward—charged ahead instead of backing up like a coward! ...I let him escape…'_

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.

This chapter originally had a much different end point, but then it got...sidetracked (you can probably guess where). Anyhow, Joker's debut brings with it the first real fight for Batman. I'm happy with how that turned out and I hope you enjoyed it, too.


	4. Home

**Author's Note:** Wow. This is the chapter that just would not end. No complaints, though this is a little close for Wednesday. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

* * *

"I am _so glad_ we're having this conversation again…"

My eyes narrow at Bruce's comment. His sarcasm grates at my nerves. "You're still helping me out. If you're really so against it, then I don't need you for them, I need you for me. Think of it like that. And you should also know that Alfred already agreed to help."

I can see Bruce's detachment give way to a bit of openness, or perhaps it'd be better to call it resignation. "One condition."

It certainly isn't the answer I was hoping for. _'I should have expected some sort of deal, but at least he isn't outright refusing to help.'_ I let my curiosity loose across my expression. "Condition?" I prompt.

"Try your bed." My curiosity turns to surprise. "One night is all I ask. See if you would like to sleep in it another night or if one night is all you care for. Just try it and we'll worry about where things go afterwards. Give me that and I'll do whatever you need me to do for this…whatever you're calling it."

I nod, accepting Bruce's offer. A grin then lifts the corners of my mouth. "I call it…" I lean out over my finished lunch, resting my elbows on either side of my plate as I rest my head on my raised right hand. "…a double date."

Bruce takes his turn narrowing his eyes. "…What?" My grin evens out into a jubilant smile. He leans back and a look of doubt crosses his face.

"Ohh, no. You're not getting out of it now, Bruce," I tell him before he can speak. He gives me a defeated, frustrated groan as he relaxes and sits straighter again. "Good. Now, we're going to the cave after this and you're going to say whatever you want to get Lois and _Clark_ here at the manor."

"What?" Confusion, though it doesn't surprise me. "I can see here, but why _Clark_? You never call him Clark."

"Because Superman trying to tell Lois who he really is isn't working, so I want to try having Clark tell Lois who he really is instead."

"And you expect this to work better? How is this going to turn out any different from their other dates? I don't think Lois will be able to look at it as a date."

"Their other dates didn't have anyone else trying to help out. If perception is going to be a problem, don't present it as a date." I reach for the iced mocha Alfred prepared me—actually, my second since we sat down. "So, whenever you're done, Bruce…"

Bruce gives a grumbled complaint as he picks his spoon up to finish his soup. He eats it quickly, even setting his spoon aside to pick the bowl up and drink the broth once there's nothing else left. He nearly drops the bowl back onto its saucer and the clink when the two dishes hit rings out through the manor's large dining hall.

Bruce pushes his chair out from behind himself and stands. I quickly rise to my feet as well. As he turns around, Alfred appears in the doorway. Bruce takes but a moment to notice his arrival. "I take it she told you the whole plan?"

I smile with amusement before the elder man responds. "Of course, Master Bruce. I think it's a marvelous idea. Sometimes all a person needs is a little push in the right direction and a friend to do the pushing. Wouldn't you agree, sir?"

Bruce begins towards the doorway to the hall and I begin following. Bruce disappears out into the hallway and I pause for a moment beside Alfred. "Bruce is going to make the call from the cave. You're of course welcome to listen in with me."

"Absolutely, Miss Diana. I'll join you as soon as the table is cleared."

Alfred continues towards the table and I head out to the hall to follow after Bruce. I keep a leisurely pace as I make my way into the Batcave, where I find that he is already sitting at his computer. He looks to me as I approach, his displeasure quite evident.

"I thought you wanted to get this done quickly."

"It's alright. Do you know what you're going to say?"

He replies with a nod. "May I begin, Princess?"

I fold my arms as I stop next to him. "Yes. Once Alfred gets here." Bruce's expression turns defiant. "Whatever I want, Bruce," I remind him before he can respond.

He turns to the array of monitors before him, leans away from me in his chair. He breaks the silence after a moment, though. "I'm going to make sure that bed is the most comfortable thing you've ever felt, so you'll never want to sleep in that oversized space capsule again."

Unrestrained laughter escapes me before I can speak. "Space capsule? You built it, Bruce."

"For utility, Diana. Not for comfort." He turns back towards me, looks past me, then turns his attention once more to the Batcomputer.

I can only guess it's because Alfred has arrived. I take the opportunity to tease him one more time before he uses the veritable supercomputer as a conference room speakerphone. "Well, I can certainly see where the design ideas came from. It's similar to the cave in that regard, isn't it?"

Bruce turns back to me with a blank expression. He reaches towards the Batcomputer. "I'm calling now."

I smile back and nod in acknowledgment. I turn to see Alfred only a few feet away and stepping up beside me. The ringing of an ordinary telephone fills the air. It lasts for three rings before abruptly ending.

"Lane," Lois answers simply, her voice unmistakable.

"Lois? Bruce Wayne." I can hear the slight difference in the pitch of his voice, reminiscent of when we 'met' and danced in Paris.

"Bruce, hi! Why're you calling? Things getting boring in Gotham?"

"Just the opposite, I'm happy to say." The disconnect between Bruce's words and his expression is as fascinating as it is amusing. "I've got a little project underway at WayneTech that I'd like to get the word out about. The Gotham outlets will have a pretty good handle on it, but I'd like to get the story some good attention outside of Gotham as well."

"…Ok. I'm not going to say no, but you remember that we have an office in Gotham, don't you?"

"Of course. You'll be free and able to link up with them however you need to. I just think it'd be best to go through reporters I know."

"Wait. Reporters? Plural?"

"Well, you'll probably need someone to carry your notes for you." Bruce laughs. "I don't really think it's going to be a one reporter story—unless you think you can shadow myself and Lucius at once."

"Alright, fine. Two it is." An odd noise comes over the speakers. I hear Lois's voice over the Batcomputer's speakers a moment later, but it's very muffled. "Hey, Smallville? I've got a lead on a story. You want in on the byline?" A pause. "I don't know. Something at WayneTech in Gotham."

The noise repeats itself. Her voice is again clear. "Bruce, you remember Clark Kent, right? He's from Kansas. We both met you at the airport during that collaboration with LexCorp."

"Clark! That was his name! I was going to suggest the very same." It's amazing. Watching Bruce put on such an act. In a way, it's awe-inspiring to watch. I have to wonder what more he'd be doing if he were standing in front of Lois in order to keep the act going. I can't help but smile, thinking that until Lois knows who Clark Kent is, we'll all have to act—Bruce, myself, and of course Kal as well.

"Alright, good. When do you need us there?"

I turn to Alfred. He turns his attention to me and immediately gives me a nod. I turn back to Bruce and mouth the word 'tonight.' He nods even as he responds to Lois aloud. "Well, it's going to be a little short notice. The presentations begin tomorrow morning, so if you'd like, I'll send a private jet and have you in Gotham in time for dinner.

"And so long as we're speaking of dinner, I hope neither of you will mind getting the primer for tomorrow over dinner at the manor."

"Just don't offer us rooms." Lois laughs. "We'll work that out with the Gotham office when we get there."

"Fair enough. I won't run the risk of jeopardizing your credibility as reporters." Bruce allows a short silence before continuing. "Alright. Well, I'm home for lunch at the moment, so I'll arrange your transportation once I get back to the office and call you again to let you know when to expect your flight."

"Yup. We'll be ready. Talk to you soon."

"Goodbye."

The line goes dead and Bruce turns to me. "Alright?"

"Yeah." I turn to Alfred and he gives me an approving smile in response. "That was perfect," I finish while turning back to Bruce.

He's already back on his feet. He leans over the controls for the Batcomputer and sets it into a low-power sleep mode. The screen goes black and he moves away from the computer.

"You don't need me for anything else until dinner, right?" I look up and away, then shake my head slowly. "Good. I'm heading back to the office before you can think of something."

Bruce steps close, reaches out, and wraps his hands around my waist. He pulls me tight against his chest and gives me a quick kiss on the lips almost before I can get my hands to his upper arms. "Just to forewarn you, I have a back-up plan if whatever you have in mind doesn't pan out." He turns to Alfred. "I'll let you know what I'll need once we get out to the car."

"Of course, Master Bruce."

Bruce whips his head back to me. "Not that I don't have faith in your plan—whatever it may be. I'm only considering Kent's current four-date record."

His hasty reassurance earns a good laugh from me. "I understand. You're just trying to cover all contingencies, right?" I give him an almost nervous laugh. "Truth be told, I'm not so sure he'll let me bring it up unless I just start blurting it out. I might end up having to count on your plan, Bruce."

"Good. Don't expect Superman to make things easy for us." His hands travel up my sides and to the backs of my shoulder blades. "But for now…" He leans forward, takes my lips with a hungry passion.

I stand in a daze for nearly a full breath before I get half a mind to begin responding. My hands slide up Bruce's arms, settling on his shoulders. My grip tightens, eliciting a groan that I soon after suppose could be from pain. Bruce pulls away a moment later and my grip relaxes. "For now," Bruce repeats, "just focus on us."

A new smile touches my lips. "Sorry, Bruce." I lean back, give Bruce a quick kiss. "Alfred and I will be too busy getting ready for tonight."

"I think you're underestimating how long the afternoon will be. You'd be better off heading up to the Watchtower to get _yourself_ prepared for tonight." Bruce lets me go and as I drop my hands back to my sides, he turns to address Alfred. "Is her room still ready?"

Alfred looks curious, hopeful. His eyes shift towards me for a short moment. "Of course, Master Bruce. Why do…" Though I'm only looking at his profile from the side, I can clearly see the triumphant smile forming on Bruce's lips. Alfred turns to me in full as Bruce begins to step past him. "_Very_ glad to have you here, Miss Diana. I assure you your stay will be most pleasant."

"Th-thank you, Alfred, but it's just for tonight." Hints of disappointment appear in Alfred's expression.

Across the cave, Bruce is nearly to the bottom of the stairs back up to the manor. "For now!" he calls correctively.

Alfred nods, the disappointment quickly replaced with understanding. "Of course, Miss." He turns towards the stairs, his head still facing me. "If you will, Miss Diana. This cave is not a proper place for anyone."

I step forward and Alfred turns, preceding me upstairs as we both follow Bruce back into Wayne Manor. He hurries off once we reach the study, fetching a car to return Bruce to Wayne Enterprises for the rest of the afternoon. I follow along at a leisurely pace, heading for the foyer to see Bruce off before following his advice and returning to the Watchtower to fetch my things for tonight.

I find Bruce already standing by the door, straightening his jacket. His briefcase is on the floor beside him, resting against his leg. I approach him from the side. "What's first?" he asks before turning to me.

"Watchtower."

"Good. Dinner doesn't need to be any fancier than food. I don't need much, so Alfred can probably help with whatever you might need as soon as you get back."

"Thanks." I lift my hands to Bruce's chest and lean in for a kiss, wondering as an off-hand thought if I've grown addicted to him in these past few months. His hands find my sides while our lips are pressed together. I hold on for a few breaths, then pull back and release him. "Love you, Bruce."

"Love you, too, Diana." He turns to the door, opens it, and we step out onto the landing together. He turns back and locks the door behind me. "I'll see you this evening."

Bruce heads down the stairs and climbs into the back seat of the car Alfred has ready and waiting. The older man closes the car door and gifts me a kind smile before walking around to the driver's door. He climbs in and starts the car moving as I watch.

When the car is out of the parking loop and halfway to the gate, I walk towards the edge of the top step. When I'm nearly there, there's a beep in my ear. I stop, turning my eyes to my left, as if I could look far enough to see the communicator in my ear.

"Superman to Wonder Woman," I hear a moment later, the words recorded and relayed once the channel is established. There's then a quiet tone indicating the system's success.

"Afternoon, Kal," I reply cheerily.

"Ahh… Hi, Diana. This may seem a little out of the blue, but…do you know anything about what Bruce has planned for tonight?"

I start pacing across the landing to keep from falling still. "…No. Can't say that I do…" _'…know what Bruce's backup plan is.'_ Luckily my grin is inaudible.

"Ohh… Alright. Well, he called Lois at the office and invited the two of us to Gotham for some story tomorrow. We're supposed to have dinner at the manor tonight. I know he likes to keep things close to the chest, but I haven't heard anything about it and, frankly, his asking Lois instead of me is kind of suspect."

Machinations build themselves in my mind. "Oh, please." I laugh. "Kal, if you're worried about Bruce, I can certainly be there for dinner."

"Would you mind?"

"No, not at all. I'll be there."

"Thanks. You know, I tried getting a hold of Bruce as soon as I could, but he isn't answering his communicator and I don't have the manor's number to try calling. Are you with him now? Maybe know why he didn't answer?"

I cross my arms below my bust, subconsciously trying not to look guilty. "No…can't say I'm with him now." Not quite a lie. If he doesn't ask about why again, I won't have to lie to him. A distraction would serve me well. "But, tell me about it. Why carry a communicator if you aren't going to use it? It's even worse for him since he was the one who designed the things."

I give a sigh before switching subjects. "…Listen, Kal…I wanted to apologize for Bruce about what happened."

"Thanks, Diana, but you don't need to apologize for him and certainly not again."

"I know, I know. You keep saying that, but it's just that I feel like it's partly my fault. I was at the manor when Bruce left to meet you. I could have made a better effort to stop him."

"Well, it's all for the better, I suppose. Hate to say it, but Bruce's…" He pauses to cough. "advice…" A second interrupting cough. "really struck a chord with me."

"No! Don't say that!" I laugh, joking despite the words. "You'll only prove him right!"

"Well, I might have to give him this one. Begrudgingly, if it makes you feel any better about it. I don't know how much longer I'd have waited on my own. I'm just glad that Lois got fed up and decided to do something about it herself…even in as roundabout a way as she chose."

There's a short silence. "Whoop. Gotta go, boss's looking for me. Thanks again, Diana."

Another tone signals the channel's termination before I can respond. _'Didn't think he'd try calling me about dinner…'_ I smirk. "All in all, I think it went well, though."

Finally, I step down to the pavement. I begin lifting my hand to my communicator, but pause. I turn back to regard Wayne Manor. When Bruce first brought me here during the Thanagarian invasion—the first time I laid eyes upon the manor in person—I have to admit that it seemed so imposing a sight.

Being introduced to Alfred had immediately brightened my image of the dark mansion. I'd even seen Bruce relax a bit once within the familiar haven of his home. Looking back on it now, it seems a little silly, but for nearly a year, I held a bit of a grudge against Kal and J'onn. Their arrival at the manor forced the reality of the invasion upon us again and Bruce immediately responded to the gravity of our situation.

Fortunately, I'd for the most part gotten over it by the time the second Watchtower was launched. Admittedly, I put more of the blame on Kal and was upset with him for longer. Then again, J'onn and I had more time to reconcile while we lived together at Wayne Manor. It helped that I got to see a more relaxed Bruce Wayne on a nearly daily basis.

The thought brings a smile to my lips, though we'd been birds in a cage while in Gotham, in the manor. Bruce forbade us from drawing unnecessary attention to himself or his estate. The only people we'd been allowed to meet were his young allies, Tim, Dick, and Barbara.

J'onn knew who they were immediately, I'm sure. Still, Bruce only introduced Tim and Dick as his adopted wards and Barbara as police commissioner James Gordon's daughter and an old girlfriend of Dick's who was still good friends with the young Tim. We all played up the lie, the feigned ignorance as Bruce made every effort to disconnect the three of them from their participation with the Gotham night.

I'd been angry at Bruce when I first figured out the lie, but thankfully, I hadn't confronted him about it. I'd given myself time to think, consider, and evaluate. In the end, I came to appreciate his efforts. He introduced J'onn and I to people to talk to, to all the people we might share the manor with while not out working to keep the League's presence a constant in the minds of criminals. And all the while he lied, not to hurt me or J'onn, but to protect the youths who entered into his personal war.

A deep breath and a sigh escape me before I come back from my recollections. I take another look at the enormous home in front of me. "And tonight, it'll be my home, too…"

I look the front of the building over. The multi-story windows on either side of the foyer and the tall roofs reaching even higher. The spire beside the gate leading down to the underground garage. The taller back half of the manor, where J'onn and I lived, where we founders met while the Watchtower was being rebuilt. Bruce's room and Alfred's were close by, too, as were Tim's room and the bedroom Dick once used.

Tonight, I'll be sharing a wall with Bruce, Alfred having set up the bedroom adjacent to Bruce's master bedroom for my use. Despite his room aboard the Watchtower being next to mine, I'm all but sure tonight will be the first time we've ever slept so close.

I'd be lying if I didn't say I was a bit nervous, but there's also an excitement, an eagerness within me. I take responsibility for first putting off Bruce and Alfred's open invitation to move into the manor, for bargaining with Bruce to try to get one particular date out of him. _'One that hadn't worked out…'_ I note to myself with disappointment. Spending a night in the manor has become a milestone in some lights, a line to cross in others.

As Bruce had grown more open, more honest, more _comfortable_ around me, my perception of the manor had only improved. Wayne Manor itself became a much more welcoming, more familiar place. I smile at the thought.

Finally, I lift my hand again to my ear. "Wonder Woman to Watchtower."

"Watchtower here."

"J'onn! I didn't realize you were on duty today."

"Yes, I began nearly an hour ago. Wait a moment, I'll activate the transporter for you."

Spots of light flitter into existence, encasing me as I take one last look at Wayne Manor. _'This is my home tonight. I'd better get used to it.'_

The transporter's light blocks my vision and a moment later I'm looking across the Watchtower's main deck towards the main elevator's doors. I give a nod to the transporter technician on duty, a young man who looks none too surprised to see me wearing civilian clothes.

Instead of walking away from the transporter pads, I lift myself into the air, floating up to the command deck, a little surprised to find both J'onn and Wally. "Flash! I didn't realize you were up here as well."

"Well, you know…" he starts a little bashfully, "Sometimes I just like to help the big guy out."

J'onn turns to the speedster. "Thank you, Flash, but you needn't wait for me here. I won't allow myself to withdraw from the Earth and her people again."

"Wait?" I repeat quizzically as I float over the ring of consoles to stand between the two seated men.

"Yeah! The minute Mr. Terrific comes back on duty, we're pulling out the Brawlin' Bots!"

"And today is my turn to use the green robot."

"We've been…" I turn from J'onn to Wally as he pauses momentarily. "…We've been taking turns playing the green bot. I got him the first time and whenever we play we switch off who gets what color."

"I see. Well, I hope you enjoy your game. If you'll excuse me, I have some things I need to take care of." I step forward, towards the command deck's elevator doors. I turn back as I walk past the two men. "You'll let me know if I'm needed for a mission, right?"

"Of course, Diana, though I do not anticipate any incidents worth your time." A friendly, knowing smile crosses J'onn's lips as he speaks. I pause, turn back to my Martian friend. I nearly open my mouth to speak when I hear his voice on the edge of my mind. _'Forgive me, Diana, I don't intend to pry. It is merely difficult to ignore the anxiousness you are projecting. Whatever is troubling you, I am sure only good things will come of it.'_

A chuckle escapes me as I close my eyes. I shake my head for a moment, disappointed in myself for troubling J'onn with my thoughts. "Thank you," I tell him as I lift my head and look at him again.

I say goodbye with a smile and turn back to the elevator. It's a short ride down to my floor and I'm almost glad there's no one to greet me. As I enter my room, I stop just inside the door to survey the landscape.

There is very little to personalize my room. Most of my clothes are already in Gotham, and now well more than half of that collection is either gifts from Bruce or purchased together with Audrey. I have no art to decorate my walls, no reminders of home to keep my heritage fresh in my mind. The majority of such things had been destroyed along with the Watchtower in the Thanagarian invasion.

Much of it was irreplaceable. I've thought repeatedly of starting to collect things representative of my time in Man's World, to again find reminders of Themyscira, but the nature of my home keeps me from beginning again. The Watchtower's binary fusion cannon has been decommissioned. The station's mass is once again our only weapon of last resort.

I approach my closet. _'Maybe…at Wayne Manor…'_ The thought doesn't need completion, I know of only one way it might end. There's only one way I _want_ the thought to end. Determination crosses my expression as I commit myself to the path before me.

I open the closet and pull everything out one item at a time. My laundry basket, I push across the floor, letting it come to a stop near my end table. I pull my formal dresses from my closet, folding the pair and placing them in a short stack on the edge of my bed.

After adding the two dresses to the small pile of yesterday's casual clothing in my basket, I turn to my almost empty bureau. I've used at most a single drawer at a time in the past two months. That's how long it's been since Alfred convinced me that it wouldn't be any trouble to keep and wash my things at Wayne Manor. And _that_ had barely been more than two weeks after he and Bruce first set the bedroom aside for my use.

I open the top drawer of my bureau and pull out the spare casual outfit. A white undershirt folded atop a white pair of pants. A deep blue cropped jacket with long sleeves. I'm already wearing the belt, shoes, and ruby pendant necklace first intended to go along with them, the pendant's shape even barely recognizable through my light sweater.

I tackle my bathroom next, gathering brushes, soaps, and all manner of hygiene products and arranging them on the counter around the sink. I reach below to the small cupboard and retrieve a travel bag from the shelf. I lift it to get a better look at it. I turn the bag in my hands, looking for the fancy "W" embroidered into its side.

"I guess I'll finally get to return this…" I comment to myself aloud.

I set the bag down and begin to take inventory of all the items gathered. Soaps and shampoos, I won't need, as both await me in my bedroom's private bathroom. Likewise, I can leave towels and washcloths here. In the end, I barely need to pack anything more significant than a toothbrush and toothpaste. Nearly everything else I have waiting for me at Wayne Manor, or at the very least, can easily ask for.

I take a look around, making sure I haven't forgotten anything, then take my filled travel bag back out to the laundry basket by my bed. I drop it in on top of the civilian clothes I wore yesterday and then gather my Wonder Woman armor from atop my bureau and, with a careful hand, place each item into the basket.

With my basket packed, I head towards the desk built around my private computer terminal. The first thing I check is the Watchtower's current location in orbit. We're nearly over the Azores. The local time is 6:21. I turn around almost reflexively. The clock in my room reads 2:21. I turn back to the computer for a moment before looking back to the wall. _'2:21? Really? Must have lost more time reminiscing than I thought…'_

I shake my head as I refocus. I access the Watchtower's communication system and dial into the regular phone line at Wayne Manor. After the fourth ring, Alfred answers, "Wayne Manor."

"Alfred? It's Diana."

"Ahh, Miss Diana!" The change in tone is more than noticeable. His initial greeting had been almost stately, but his response had been…I guess I'd call it energetic, full of life.

"Alfred, I was just about to leave, but I wanted to check in first. I don't want to carry a laundry basket full of my personal effects around the Watchtower, so I was thinking of flying down to the surface. Do you think there's room for me to park my invisible jet?" I'm confident the elder man will pick up on my implied meaning.

"Of course. Why, I don't expect we'll even need to move one of Master Bruce's Bentleys. I might need to do something with the Studebaker, though."

Alfred's joking tone earns a good chuckle. "Thank you, Alfred." I look at the map again in the background of my screen. "I think I'll be in Gotham at about 4:00."

"Excellent. Master Bruce called a short time ago to inform me that Master Kent and Miss Lane will land in Gotham at 5:27. I expect we'll be able to start dinner on time at 6 o'clock. Will you need my assistance preparing anything for dinner before I leave for the airport?"

"No, thank you, Alfred. I just need to be able to be able to steer our conversations. Can you tell me anything about Bruce's plan?"

"Well, Master Bruce insisted I keep the details to myself, but I see no harm in telling you that Master Bruce expects a poor reaction on Miss Lane's part. With this in mind, he asked that I prepare a separate room so your dinner will not be ruined by any ensuing arguments between your dinner guests."

I spend a moment laughing. "So even he doesn't think dinner will be a success!"

"I wouldn't say that, Miss Diana," Alfred corrects. I stop, my curiosity piqued. I'm sure anyone who were to see me lean closer to the terminal to appear more attentive would be surprised that neither Alfred nor I can see each other. "I believe Master Bruce instead anticipates dinner will be a smashing success. …He would just like to avoid the smashing. I certainly appreciate the spirit of his precautions."

A light chuckle escapes me. "Of course." I begin to stand up from my desk. "Well, I'll head out soon and I'll be there when I can."

"Certainly, Miss. Master Bruce and I look forward to having you at the manor."

I pause. There's a…a permanence in Alfred's tone, a surety I can't ignore. It seems that I have not one, but two men to worry about making efforts to keep me in Wayne Manor beyond tonight. _'Next I'll start getting pressured by Tim as well…' _It seems to be the only thing left.

I give a sigh as I cross to my bed and the filled laundry basket waiting atop it. I pick it up and head to the door, ready as I'll ever be to leave this room behind. The hallway outside is empty and I luck out when the elevator arrives empty.

As its doors close behind me, I turn back, looking into the large elevator and wondering how long the trip down more than a dozen floors to the hangar will take. The elevator begins moving a moment later and I turn my attention back to the floor indicator. Four floors pass and I'm beyond the other residential decks. Three more and I've passed the life support decks and most of the storage decks.

The elevator slows to a stop as I watch the indicator. Maintenance Deck B. The doors open and I'm face-to-face with a crew of maintenance staffers. We stare at one another for a few moments before I see their attention shift to my laundry basket and its contents. I feel a heat in my cheeks as a wave of embarrassment passes over me.

The staff member closest to the doors looks above the elevator. "Um…" He hesitates and his colleagues turn to stare holes in the back of his head. "Sorry, I pressed the wrong direction. We'll catch the next one."

The doors begin to close and I see one of the others slap the shoulder of the man who spoke. I give a disheartened inward sigh. _'Didn't think I'd be able to avoid anyone seeing me…certainly not once I got to the hangar…'_

The rest of the elevator ride is a bit of a blur. In truth, I space out a little, distracted by my thoughts as I try to think about the things Shayera will relay at the next founders' meeting or, hopefully, to me in private. Seeing me in civilian clothing is nothing new—I even did it occasionally _before_ Bruce and I started dating—but someone seeing me out and about with an open laundry basket… At least I'd had a little bit of help from Bruce keeping my previous moves a little more discreet.

The elevator doors open for me at the hangar and I make my way to the reserved bay for my invisible jet. Nearly a third of the Javelin bays are empty. It has all the appearance of a light day for missions, but I can't see the hangar bays below to know how many transport ships are docked to get a sense of the natural disasters currently being handled by the League.

As I approach my jet, I reach up to my ear and my communicator. I press my fingertip to the small rocker switch near the top edge and at the beep, command, "Open."

A synthetic voice confirms my command as the canopy of the invisible craft opens. I lift myself into the air and drop my basket into the right-hand passenger seat, strapping it in place and wedging another seat's cushion over it to keep its contents from moving about.

With my things secured, I take my place in the pilot's seat and begin powering on the unique craft's systems. When I'm nearly ready, I activate the communication console and connect to the command deck.

"J'onn," I begin when his image appears on screen, "how far down the line am I going to be for take-off?"

"You should really have contacted the hangar control officer, Diana." I wait him out. After a moment of silence, he sighs. "It should only be a moment, I see two Javelins coming up from the surface and another in the airlock waiting to depart."

"Good. Put me in line."

"Done."

I'm about to thank J'onn when I hear Flash shout. "_Yes! _Finally." J'onn turns away from the screen and I hear Flash again. "I'll get the bots and we'll meet in the lounge on B, 'kay, big guy?"

A smirk crosses my face as I see Mr. Terrific approaching J'onn. I reach out for the communication panel and close the channel, opening up an audio link to Hangar Control. I activate the lights set about the exterior of my jet and taxi towards the airlock.

It's a slow drive around the hangar deck, but it's more a problem of navigating the lanes between parked Javelins than from any sort of delay. The control officer guides me through the process, keeping me out of the way of the first Javelin to arrive and keeping them out of my way in turn.

The most painful part of the process is waiting in the airlock for the air to drain. Finally, the doors begin to open and I catch sight of the clearance lights. The sequence begins the moment the doors stop moving. When at last the final light illuminates, I open the throttle and take off, quickly leaving the Watchtower and receiving a kind farewell from the control officer before the channel closes.

I keep much of my flight in space, waiting until I appear to be nearly over the edge of America's east coast before beginning my descent. To call the reentry experience a bit of an adrenaline rush would be to understate it. My invisible jet's energy shield does most of the work, protecting the most vulnerable of my ship's systems and dealing with most of the heat.

In the process of protecting my ship, the heat builds against the shield instead of the ship's hull. The heat creates the illusion of being in a bubble of fire or the glass at the end of a glassblower's blowpipe. It's as awe-inspiring as it is unnerving to see, thinking of the marvel of the shields keeping me alive and the consequence if they fail.

Eventually, the heat dissipates to safe levels and I begin leveling off my descent. The jet's computers guide me towards the destination I set before beginning reentry and soon I'm able to see Gotham City ahead.

My communication console lights up and I reach for it with my left hand. Bruce's face appears on the screen as it activates. "Not bad, Princess. Only a few minutes after 4:00."

"Bruce, have you been tracking me?"

"Only since reentry."

"I have an invisible plane."

"I have WayneTech."

I can't help but laugh. "Touché, Bruce." I begin dropping down another few thousand feet. "What are you doing home? I didn't think you'd be ending your day at Wayne Enterprises until 5:00."

"I might have, but Alfred contacted me after you talked to him. I finished up a small acquisition at about 3:30 and then asked Alfred to pick me up. Decided I wanted to be here to greet you when you arrive." His lips broaden into a bit of a smirk. "That and I knew I'd have to move a few things so you'd have a place to park. Speaking of which, slow down a bit. I don't want people wondering about any sonic booms."

"Yeah, yeah. I know, Bruce. I know," I reply while lowering my airspeed to something a little more reasonable than subsonic. "Just make sure the cliff opens."

"Of course."

It isn't much longer that I'm over Gotham. I spend a few moments looking out the cockpit at the city below as I fly above it all. I can't help but notice a sense of longing. I can't say I'm surprised at all to feel it. I want to be on the ground, walking around Gotham, driving or riding in a car. I want to feel like a part of Gotham. I want to feel that sense of belonging that being out with Bruce always seems to instill within me.

I shake it off, refocusing myself as I come around towards the cliff below Wayne Manor. I see the cliff wall opening ahead of me and slow down even more as I prepare to land. It isn't long before the wheels of the invisible jet touch down on the Batwing's runway. I take advantage of the space, slowing myself to a gradual stop.

Once I come to a stop, I see Bruce waving me down, directing me out of the way of his Batwing. I follow his instructive hand motions, finally parking beside the Batwing and out of its way. I begin shutting the jet down one system at a time and stand up as I open the canopy, turning back to my laundry basket full of belongings to replace the cushion.

Once I get the seatbelt off the basket, I lift myself and the basket into the air and away from my jet as its canopy closes. I float to the floor of the cave, landing a couple steps from a patiently waiting Bruce. I set the basket down gently before closing the gap between us.

"Diana."

"Bruce," I reply in terse greeting as we embrace.

After a moment of settling for a hug, he lifts a hand to my cheek, cupping my face as he leans in to steal a quick kiss. I don't even think to suppress a small moan of enjoyment when I feel his lips moving against mine. When he starts pulling back, my right hand darts around to the base of his neck and I pull him back for another kiss. Kiss number two leaves us both breathing a little heavier.

As our lips come apart afterwards, we return our hands to each other's waist. Soon after, Bruce looks past me. "So, what'd you bring me?" he asks in good humor, a tone that would seem so foreign to hear from him even four months prior.

I chuckle in response. "Nothing for you. I thought I might bring a few things by for your houseguest for tonight… That won't be a problem, will it?"

"No, of course not." He begins to release me. "Shall we head upstairs, then? I'm sure my guest would prefer her things in place."

I nod in response as I lower my own hands. I turn, but Bruce stops me with a hand on my shoulder as he steps by. I follow him with my gaze as he picks up my laundry basket. "Bruce, I'm perfectly capable of—"

"You're our guest tonight, Diana. I hope you don't mind being catered to." I open my mouth to reply, but Bruce cuts in again, "I know, but Alfred would never stand for you to carry your things upstairs. If you'd like to disappoint him, you certainly can."

I give a little huff of annoyance. "Liar."

"What?" Bruce laughs, feigning ignorance, but the knowing smile on his lips bookending the question gives him away.

"You _know_ I don't want to disappoint Alfred just as much as you don't want to." I avert my gaze and cross my arms against my chest before turning towards the staircase up to the study. "There was never any sort of choice…"

I head for the stairway, hearing Bruce chuckle amusedly behind me. We climb the stairs in silence and I wait for him in the study. I approach the grandfather clock after he passes through and reset the time after he tells me it's 4:28.

I turn away from the clock just in time to watch Alfred entering the study. "Ahh, Miss Diana, I'm glad to see you arrived safely." He approaches Bruce and offers without words to take my basket. Bruce relinquishes my things with quiet thanks. "Shall we?" he asks, hefting the basket a little higher before turning back towards the hallway.

Bruce and I fall into step behind Alfred as he leads us around the manor and upstairs. It isn't long before we pass Bruce's room and come to my door. The elder butler opens the door, steps through quickly, and holds the door for us to enter as well. When it's closed behind us, he brings the basket to my closet, sets it down, and opens its door.

He starts turning back to the basket. "Alfred, please, no. You do far more for me than necessary. I'll take care of my clothes."

Alfred stands up from the basket, regarding me for a moment as he closes the closet door. "Well, in the very least, Miss Diana, I insist upon bringing your travel bag to the bathroom."

"...Yeah, alright. I actually brought the bag back to be able to return it. You can dump it out and I'll put things away this evening."

Alfred nods in understanding before reaching back down for the bag. He walks quickly to the bathroom and disappears within. Meanwhile, I turn back to Bruce. "Thinking of clothes, Bruce, what are you wearing for dinner?"

"Suit and tie."

"To your own dining room, Bruce?" I chuckle as I continue, "I didn't realize we were going to a formal event."

"Well, it's not, but if you want to convince them it's a serious business engagement…"

"What do you think I should—"

"That little red dress you got with Audrey in Paris. Knee-length, strapless, had the black lace or whatever it was around the hem."

I chuckle at Bruce's interruption. "That's oddly specific, Bruce. I don't think I've worn that for any of our dates."

"You haven't."

"So tell me, Bruce…"

"How do I remember?" I nod as my smile broadens. "Well, suffice to say you looked stunning in it."

"I thought we were supposed to look formal, not stunning."

"Diana, I'm going to be perfectly honest with you." He pauses, so I nod and lean a little closer to convey my attentiveness and prompt him to continue. "I do _not_ look forward to our dinner conversation with Lois and Kent _at all_. I've resigned myself to it as a necessary evil, but I'd still at least like to get a few things out of it. I'm looking forward to Alfred's dinner and I'm looking forward to seeing you in a nice dress.

"Most of all, I'd like to see Kent squirm as he tries to explain himself. If that gets too out of hand or hopefully before Lois goes after us or _me_ for knowing who Superman is, I've asked Alfred to set up a safe space for them to argue in private. Once they're out of the way, we can finish our dinner in peace and I've got nothing but good things to look forward to."

I lean over my right foot and place a hand on my hip. "So, basically what you're telling me is you are putting up with this whole dinner thing, but you've decided to go about it as selfishly as possible?"

"That's what you wanted, isn't it?" He steps closer.

"…Not _quite_ what I meant by selfish, Bruce." His arms wrap around me and I lift my hands to his upper arms. "But good enough."

Bruce gives me a quick kiss. "Good. Now, let's get ready for dinner." He lets me go and steps back and out of my grasp. He turns his head, looking towards the bathroom door. "I'm sure Alfred will appreciate the assistance."

"Sure, but first, I was wondering…where's Tim? Will he be joining us for dinner, too?" As I speak, I see Alfred exit the bathroom.

"Someone call?" At the new voice, the three of us turn towards the doorway, finding Tim Drake leaning around the doorframe. He steps into the room, "Hi! Joining you for what?"

I step away from Bruce and towards Tim and the door behind him. "Tim! How are you?" I ask, happy to see Bruce's young ally.

Tim steps away from the door and into my room. "I'm fine, Wonder Woman. …You're looking well. You and Bruce are having dinner together tonight, aren't you?"

"Tim, please, you can call me Diana."

My plea seems to embarrass the teen. "Sorry, sorry. Force of habit…Diana."

I smile in response before addressing his question. "Yes, I'm having dinner with Bruce, but we're also having guests."

"Ohh, yeah!" Tim's expression lights up with his memories. "Alfred told me about that. Clark Kent and…ahh…Lois Lane, right? Geez, I haven't seen Clark since you guys launched the new Watchtower."

"Have you heard why they're coming tonight?" Tim nods in reply. "Would you like to join us for dinner? I'm sure you knowing about Superman will help us out."

Tim's expression shifts to disgust. "And be a fifth wheel? Sorry, but I'll pass."

"You and Bruce, both," I laugh, momentarily turning back to Bruce. "Are you sure, Tim?"

"It's fine. I'll just eat with Alfred. I have to meet up with Barbara so we can start tonight's patrol after dinner anyhow."

I nod in acknowledgement. "Well, thank you both for taking care of Gotham while Bruce and I are together."

"Are you kidding?" Tim asks excitedly, nearly exclaiming. "Thank you, Diana! We've been trying to get the old man to put more trust in us for years!"

"It's not a matter of trust, Tim," Bruce corrects as he steps up beside me. "It's a matter of safety. No matter how well I've trained you, there will always be new situations which I cannot account for. If there's an issue of trust, it's that I don't trust Gotham's criminals to play by any sort of rules."

"So what if they don't? Who taught us to adapt, Bruce?" Tim replies. Bruce falls silent beside me. "Trusting in our training isn't complacency. And anyway, tonight is the _last_ night for you to need to worry about us."

"Meaning?" Bruce asks.

"If something happens to me or to Barb, then the three biggest names in the Justice League are our backup."

"Not if I have anything to say about it." I turn at Bruce's words. He looks back to me. "No offense, Diana. Gotham is still _my_ city to protect."

For a moment, I stand in silence, glaring at Bruce. "I'd say my offer still stands, Bruce, but you never let me make it," I finally answer as I turn back to Tim.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to make sure dinner is in order before leaving to pick up Master Kent and Miss Lane," Alfred interrupts. He pauses beside Tim, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Come along, Master Timothy."

As the pair of them leave, I feel Bruce's hand on my lower back, snaking around to the right side of my waist. I smile and turn to my left as I embrace him again. "I suppose we should get ready and change, too."

Bruce leans closer, his lips closing in on mine. "Probably." I feel the gentle press of Bruce's lips on my own and quickly find myself leaning into him. I easily hear my inhale as the breath passes through my nose.

He pulls at my upper lip lightly and I try to turn it around and capture his lower lip in turn. We let go after a moment and relax, standing straight and looking across the narrow gap between our faces. Bruce's blue eyes are staring intently into mine and after a moment, I find my gaze drop down to his smile.

A light pursing of his lips draws my attention back to his closing eyes as he leans in again. I ready my lips for another kiss, close my eyes, and wait, but instead of my lips, I feel Bruce's lips on my chin.

I give a tiny gasp of surprise in response and then Bruce's hands rise up my back. His right hand pulls at my lower back, pressing my stomach against his as he lifts me onto the tips of my toes against him. At the same time, he lifts his left hand slowly higher. I feel my hair shifting, some of my dark locks gathering in his hand as he brings it up against the base of my neck. Like his right hand below, he lifts his hand along my neck, coaxing me to tip my head back as he cradles me with firm hands.

_'Ohh, the fury if Mother could only to see me now…'_ I think to myself. Bruce's lips then begin paving a trail of kisses along the edge of my jaw, pausing for a few extra kisses targeting the hinge.

I let a drawn out hum escape my throat to encourage him. Immediately after, he pulls his lips away for a moment. I nearly have time to protest before he begins a second lane of kisses down the exposed front of my neck. "Thank Hera I didn't wear a turtleneck," I mutter as his lips reach the hem, just above the base of my neck.

Bruce lifts his head. "I _would_ thank Hera if you were already wearing that red dress I mentioned earlier."

I open my eyes and the lazy smile drops from my face. "Well, _that_ killed it." I drop my head back down to look him in the eye.

"Sorry, didn't mean to."

I give a sigh. It starts in tired disappointment, but ends in contentedness as Bruce begins to rub his hands in circles across my upper and lower back. "Forget about it." Bruce's hands drop to the sides of my waist and I copy the motion. "We should probably get changed for dinner anyhow."

Bruce nods before stepping away. "I'm going to take a shower before I put my dress on," I inform.

He nods again in acknowledgment. "Alright. I'll meet you in the dining room, then." He then begins towards the door, closing it behind himself and leaving me alone in my room.

_'My room…'_ The place where I sleep. I still need to get used to that thought.

I turn in place, looking the room over again. That's when I notice the pictures. Prints of the photographs of Bruce and myself that Lois's photographer took at the Daily Planet. Detailed concept sketches, nearly artist's interpretations of the original Watchtower and its replacement. A painting of Themyscira I'd asked for during my short tenure as official ambassador to Man's World. A photograph of the League's seven founders in front of the Metro Tower the day it was completed.

I smirk, shrug my shoulders, and lift my hands to my hips. For all the worry I've held onto about once more losing the souvenirs of my time in Man's World, I've been collecting things all the same. For all the possibility I saw in bringing a collection of reminders to Wayne Manor, I didn't even realize that I already had.

I refocus myself with a shake of the head to push the thoughts from my mind. I then head for the laundry basket I brought back from the Watchtower and carry it into the bathroom. After setting it down beside the door, I turn on the lights and fan as I stand back up.

A knowing smile crosses my lips as I look to the counter around the sink. "Of course… I didn't really think Alfred would leave anything for me to put away."

I make note of the bathrobe waiting for me beside the door and then cross to the shower. I reach in after pulling open the glass door, turning the water on and bringing the quick-flowing shower up to a comfortable temperature. As the water then heats up, I step back towards the basket, undress, and put my clothes into it.

After sliding the basket out of the room and closing the door, I turn back to the shower. With a test of the hand, I check the water temperature before slipping inside and closing the door behind me. The warm, nearly hot water relaxes me as it flows across my skin. I turn, my back to the showerhead, and can't help but stand thoughtless and motionless as the water draws the tension from my body.

When I'm satisfied, I lift my hands to my hair, tipping my head back into the spray and using my fingers to help the water penetrate straight through to my scalp. After a few moments, I turn around, wetting my face in the falling water before lifting my chin and letting the spray hit my neck and run down my front. I lift my hands into the spray, holding them open as if to catch the heat.

After a few minutes, I feel like it's time to continue, so I reach for the shampoo to begin washing my hair. Once it's rinsed clean, I turn my attention to the washcloth and soap, cleaning and rinsing my face before carefully washing the rest of myself. When I'm at last done washing, I spend a few more moments with first my front and then my back to the showerhead, once more relaxing mind and body under the water.

After turning off the water and squeezing as much of it from my hair as I can, I step out of the shower. While standing on the bathmat I'm sure Alfred left out only a matter of minutes ago, I reach for a towel and dry my head and hair as much as possible before wrapping my dark locks up and fetching a second towel for my body.

After drying myself and spending a fair amount more time drying my hair again, I turn to the soft robe waiting for me with a broad smile on my face. I pull it from its hook, spend a moment regarding it before putting it on. The soft feel in my hands quickly proves too tempting and I slip my arms down the sleeves, first my left, then my right.

After pulling my hair from within the neck of the robe, I wrap the expensive fabric tightly around myself and revel in the feel of it. I look down, treating myself to the familiar view of the seemingly upside-down "W" just above my left breast. With my lips nearly stuck in a smile, I secure the robe and turn to the door. I leave the fan on to handle some more of the shower's steam and head back out into my room.

It's almost too sad a moment when, not long after, I have to remove the robe to change into my dress. Every so often as I slip into my silken scarlet garment, I find my eyes drawn back to the robe. Once dressed, I pick the robe up and return it to its hook on the bathroom wall, turning off the fan and promising it and myself that I'll start tomorrow morning with another shower.

Dressed but still barefoot, I go back to my closet for my dress's high heels of matching red. Ready after slipping the shoes onto my feet, I exit out into the hallway and head downstairs to the dining hall. When I step through the door, I immediately spot Bruce at the table, squaring placemats at the two place settings on each side nearest the head of the table.

Near the middle of the table is Tim, strategically placing a set of decorative centerpiece bowls along the table's centerline. I glance to the clock hanging on the wall and see that it's well after 5:00, nearly 5:25. _'Alfred must have already left for the airport. He's probably already there waiting.'_

"Is there anything left for me to do?" I ask as Bruce begins turning from the placemats to me.

"Not really." He turns to Tim. "You and Alfred are handling dinner?"

"Yup. I'm going to help Alfred get things ready and then Alfred's going to serve. We'll both eat while all of you are as well, and hopefully I'll be out on patrol before it's time for dessert." Tim turns to me from Bruce. "Good choice on the roast lamb, by the way."

"Thanks," I reply with a smile as I come up to the table and rest my hands on the back of one of the chairs. "So now we just have to wait for Alfred to get back with Lois and Kal?"

"Sounds about right," Bruce answers as he steps closer to me.

"Whoop, I know where this is going!" We both turn at Tim's interruption. He reaches back onto the table to quickly straighten one of the bowls. "Let me at least get out of here first."

My gaze follows him as he dashes around the table and disappears into the kitchen. I look back to Bruce and as he begins to turn towards me, the dam bursts and I laugh, starting from a light chuckle. As my laughter quickly grows nearly boisterous, Bruce gives a smirk and a chuckle of his own.

"Well," I begin as my laughter finally fades, "maybe we should wait until later…"

Bruce replies with a doubtful expression. "What? You don't think you can?" I ask. "Weren't you the one to say you wanted things to look forward to after Lois finds out about Superman and Clark Kent?"

"Alright. I'll give you that one." He pauses. "Though I was thinking that same thing about you." He barely waits for me to respond at all, but gets us on back track before I can speak. "So, someplace to sit down and relax while we wait then?"

"Sure." He approaches as I answer, offering his arm to me when he's close enough.

I let go of the chair and turn to face the same direction as Bruce. I hook my arm around his at the elbow and look back up to his face. "Shall we?" he says as he takes the first step, starting us out of the dining hall.

We walk down the hall to the foyer and enter the hall on the opposite side of the first floor, heading into the living room. We step down to the room's recessed floor level and head for one of the sofas to sit down. Bruce releases me and lets me seat myself before joining me.

Almost immediately after settling into his seat, he reaches behind me and wraps his right arm around my shoulders. As his hand settles on the end of my shoulder, he reaches across himself with his left hand, offering it to me. I waste no time taking it with my own left hand.

I relax into Bruce's embrace. My eyes close as a joyous smile spreads across my lips. I let my head dip lazily forward as I begin to rub his hand with tiny, occasional movements of my fingertips. He squeezes my hand back gently.

For a while, we sit mostly still, content with the small interactions of our hands. I find myself relaxing more and more with each passing minute in Bruce's easy embrace. That is until a little tingle runs up my right side. Almost immediately, I realize that his right hand, having migrated from my shoulder to my side, is the culprit.

His fingertips play at my side just below my ribs. A small shiver runs through me and at the same time I regret even the thin material of my dress and wish it were a dozen times thicker. Bruce shifts on the sofa and I open my eyes to see him turning towards me and leaning closer.

"Sorry," he whispers to me. I lift my head and he immediately captures my lips with his own. Our kiss is short, but passionate. "Just happy to see you in that dress."

"Mmm… So, what you're saying is that _my_ doubt was well-founded?" Bruce ignores the rhetorical question as I pull with my left hand, pulling on his left arm and drawing him closer. "If this is from a dress, what else can I wear again?"

Bruce gives me another kiss. I'd wonder if it was a delaying tactic while he thinks of an answer, but I'm too pre-occupied with his lips to care. "How about that suit from dinner the other night?"

A laugh escapes me. "Really, Bruce? All the clothes in the world and you'd like to see me in long pants and a jacket with long sleeves?"

"It seems so out of the ordinary for you. Besides, when you look good in a suit, you look good in a suit, Diana."

The comment lifts the corners of my mouth into a wry smile. "Is what why you wear them so often?"

"If you don't mind me taking that as a compliment, then of course."

I let myself laugh again, then lean back into Bruce. I press my left shoulder against him and relax again. "Keep your hands under control..." I nearly whisper while closing my eyes again.

"Who said they aren't?" Bruce jokes.

I start to respond when the sound of a ringing telephone fills the room. I lift myself, sitting straight as Bruce pulls his arm away to lean over and answer the phone.

"Wayne Manor." A pause. His face lights up. "Ahh, Alfred." Another pause, a little longer this time. "Alright. We'll meet you at the door. Thank you, Alfred."

He turns to me as he hangs up the phone. "Almost to the gate," he informs me.

I give a nod and follow Bruce up as he stands. He offers me his hand and I take it, interlocking our fingers and walking alongside him as we return to the foyer.

I get myself ahead of Bruce while we're in the foyer. A few steps later, I reach out with my free hand and open the front door for him. He hesitates for a moment, but one look at my face and he steps outside, with me following him out onto the front landing and closing the door behind us.

Almost immediately, I see Alfred and the car coming up onto the bluff below the manor. Bruce steps us up to the middle of the landing as Alfred comes around to the parking loop. Bruce gives my hand a squeeze and whispers to me, "Do I really have to do this?"

I smile in response, then reach across as I turn, putting my right hand on his right shoulder and planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I thought you were resigned… I already told you it's your fault for getting involved in the first place. Now quiet or he'll hear," I say in a low whisper before turning back towards Alfred and the car.

Just as I turn back, Alfred stops the car. He gets out, comes around to the passenger side, and opens the rear door. Lois steps out first, Kal a moment later. Both smile up to us, though Lois's seems a little forced. _'She probably didn't expect to see me.'_ Kal's, meanwhile, is warm. He's relieved to see that he doesn't have to face Bruce alone. _'I don't like having to lie to him about my involvement, but I think it'll be worth it by the end of the night.'_ I smile back.

Alfred goes for the trunk and Kal immediately turns around to help him get his things and Lois's from the car. Lois turns as well and I barely hear her talking to Kal. "Don't forget we're supposed to take notes during dinner, Smallville."

"I remember, Lois."

Alfred closes the trunk and picks up the one bag Kal left him with, then waves our dinner guests up the stairs towards Bruce and myself. "This way, ma'am, sir."

"Evening, Bruce, Diana. I'm a little surprised to see you here, too." Lois comes to a stop in front of me on the edge of the step. A moment later, Kal is standing beside her.

"Well," I begin, both truthfully and trying to explain my presence without making it seem out of the ordinary, "Bruce and I try to see each other when we can. I usually have dinner with him here." I look meaningfully towards Kal after I finish speaking.

Lois picks up on it after a moment. "Oh, yeah. Bruce, Clark, I'm sure you remember each other, right?" Both men nod in reply, so she turns her attention back to me. "Diana, Clark Kent. Clark, Wonder Woman."

"Wonder Woman!" Kal exclaims with surprise as he grasps the frame of his glasses and lifts them from his eyes. I'd have a lot easier of a time believing his reaction if I didn't know it was all an act. I smile and nod in reply.

Lois groans in disappointment. "Anyway, Bruce, you didn't tell me this was going to be a formal event."

He turns to me before replying. "Any excuse to put on a suit." I laugh and give his hand a squeeze, thanking him for the little joke meant just for me.

Alfred clears his throat pointedly. Bruce gives a tiny nod, then invites our guests inside. The pair of us follow Alfred and then Lois and Kal inside. Alfred leads them to a sitting room and instructs them to leave their things inside.

After, both reporters ask for a few moments to get ready for dinner. Lois, in particular, is adamant about making good use of the nearest bathroom to do something about looking so "homely," as she puts it.

"Please, Lois, you can't look that bad for Superman to still be smitten with you," Kal himself responds.

Lois eyes him suspiciously. "How do you know about that, Smallville?"

"Ahh…" Kal hesitates. He laughs nervously, and it's probably genuine nervousness. "What do you mean, Lois? The whole office knows. The whole world knows. We've known for years."

Lois is silent for a few moments. "You have _no_ idea what you're talking about…" Kal's expression shifts to confusion. "Forget about it, Clark, it's not really any of your business anyway."

Alfred cuts in a moment later, offering to escort Lois to the bathroom as Bruce and I head for the dining room to wait. When we get to the table, Bruce takes the seat nearest the head of the table on one side and I go to sit next to him. "Hold on, Diana."

"What?"

"You're over there." Bruce points to the seat directly across from him.

"Why? Don't you want to sit next to me?"

"Backup plan."

He looks up at me, waiting for me to understand. I'm not sure I really do, but he certainly seems adamant about our seating arrangement. "Fine." I move away from the chair and go around the head of the table to sit opposite Bruce.

It isn't too much longer before Lois and who I clearly have to admit is Clark arrive. He sits beside Bruce, though I spot a little bit of hesitation as he takes the seat. Lois, meanwhile, approaches to sit beside me. Both set their pad and paper down beside them and Lois wastes almost no time before asking, "Alright, Bruce, can we at least get a little teaser of what's to come? Or are you going to make us wait until after dinner before letting us be reporters?"

Bruce lifts his gaze and looks away after the shortest of moments spent looking at me. "Alright. A small teaser, I can manage," he replies after a short time in thought. He drops his attention back down and stares Lois right in the eye in a manner almost more Batman than Bruce Wayne. "I have an announcement regarding…technologic donations I'm making through WayneTech."

Lois sits a little straighter in her seat. _'Well, she gets it.'_ I look across to Clark. He's surprised, certainly, but it doesn't look like he has figured out what Bruce means in full. I look back to Bruce, wonder if he really intends to make public that he's sharing WayneTech technology with Watchtower engineers for the next generation of Javelins—notably, something he's only providing piecemeal, again doing the design work almost entirely by himself.

I spot Alfred in the doorway behind Bruce. I perk up a little and he casts me a questioning glance. I nod my head in reply and Alfred gives me a smile before disappearing once more. A few moments later, he appears again, carrying a tray of Caesar salads. He approaches me first, places a plate of salad before me and I thank him before he gives me a second to pass to Lois. Lois thanks him as well before Alfred moves to the other side of the table to repeat the process with Bruce and Clark.

The four of us quickly begin eating as Alfred vanishes back into the kitchen. The silence doesn't last long. "So, Diana, Bruce didn't tell me you'd be here. Am I wrong to assume that this announcement of his has something to do with you and the Justice League?"

I smile to feign ignorance. "Sorry, Lois, but you'd have to ask Bruce about that." I wave across the table. "He's right there if you'd like to ask." I look to Bruce and notice the hint of displeasure on his face.

"Yeah, no offense, Bruce, but you're not exactly the most forthright person in the world." She turns back to me. "But I'm sure you know that better than me."

I laugh heartily and spend a few moments continuing to work at my salad. "And what about your colleague?" I turn to Clark. "Mister…Kent, was it?"

"Ahh, yeah. Clark Kent."

"I don't remember you from when Bruce and I interviewed with Lois at the Daily Planet," I comment offhandedly.

"Yeah. I was out that day. I was at home, visiting my parents in Kansas." He smiles. "That was certainly an interview I'd have liked to share with you, Lois."

"Yeah. Sorry for skunking you out on that one, Smallville, but… Well, you know how it goes."

And so our conversation continues. We cover every bit of small talk as we finish our appetizers and begin eating the carefully cooked leg of lamb our meal is centered around. Except for when he's directly addressed, Bruce stays mostly quiet. I notice him stealing glances at me every so often and I can't help myself from smiling back at him in reply.

I'm speaking of the Justice League when I finally get an easy break. I take it, using the opportunity to naturally shift the conversation towards Superman's identity. "Speaking of Superman, Lois, he told me about the time you spent together."

"Whoa!" Lois exclaims, turning toward me in her chair. "What do you mean? In what kind of detail?"

I regard her quizzically before explaining. "He…just told me about why you stopped dating." I pause. "I was going to say that I don't blame you. I don't think I'd be able to handle dating another superhero without knowing both their costumed and civilian self."

"Diana," Bruce warns.

I'd reach across the table for his hand, but with the table's width, it'd just be awkward to try. "Hypothetically, Bruce. Hypothetically." I give him a reassuring smile and then take another bite of lamb.

Lois gives a contemptuous humph, though I can't tell if it's directed at the man she knows is here or the one she thinks is somewhere else. "What?" I ask as I turn.

"Sorry, I didn't mean for that to be aloud." I continue watching her until she looks back at me again. Finally, she sighs and gives in to explain herself. "It's just…it's all still there, but…" She lifts a hand to her heart as she speaks. "How much do I put up with? How much should I share, how serious am I supposed to be with a man who won't share with me?"

"Well," Clark pipes up from the other side of the table, "maybe it's not that he won't, but that he can't."

"Oh, come on, Clark! You always take Superman's side. What do you know about him?" There's an unmistakable tiredness, a weariness to Lois's voice.

He hesitates before responding. "Well, we're both men. He probably just wants to protect you. I'd want to if I were ever putting you in danger."

I watch the pair of them going back and forth for a few moments. Eventually, the conversation ends on its own. After another couple minutes, Bruce finishes his meal. I finish shortly after.

With nothing else to do but wait, I try to make use of the chance to bring conversation back to Superman, but Clark begins to sabotage my efforts, steering us away from topics too close to home. I spend a moment looking across the table, wondering if he's realized that it's not Bruce, but me he has to worry about tonight. I can't tell for sure, but he's certainly remembered my stance on him telling Lois about himself.

Eventually, Alfred comes in to fetch our dinnerware. He asks us each what we'd like for dessert, offering between pie and an assortment of fruit and pastry combinations. He also offers caffeine, which Lois and Clark both jump on. I ask for pie and "the usual," knowing he'll bring me a delicious iced mocha.

Superman comes up in conversation again, very much without my help, as Alfred leaves the room. After Clark tries again to brush the topic aside, Bruce finally speaks up. "Oh, for the—" With a surprising speed, Bruce reaches across himself with his right hand, grabbing Clark's glasses and yanking them from his face.

At the same time, he slips his left hand under Clark's placemat and lifts the sheet of fabric. He slaps it against Clark's chest, exposing the underside to the room. "Ok?" Bruce asks, looking squarely at Lois. Even with his hand in the middle of the placemat's underside and the obscuring forms of his fingers and arm, the emblem from Superman's chest sewn against the fabric is obvious.

Lois, Clark, and I all sit in stunned silence. I turn my gaze from the placemat to Bruce's face, see him well beyond the end of his patience, and then look to Lois just in time to see her as she begins to react. "What…" Realization begins to hit. "_What?_" She rises abruptly from her chair, turns away, spinning once in place. "You can't be…" She looks to Bruce. "…Oh, my god, you _are_ serious…"

"Yeah," Bruce confirms. He stands up, looks pointedly to me, and I follow him to my feet. "Now, if you and _Clark_ wouldn't mind following me, I'm sure you have a lot to say to each other."

"Oh, ho ho…you bet _your_ _ass_ I have a lot to say…" The outed Superman stands hesitantly at the sound of Lois's fury. He glances momentarily to a practically unsympathetic Bruce before turning at me with an accusatory look.

As Lois and Kal start walking towards the other end of the table, Bruce waves towards me to get my attention. "You can wait here, Diana. I'll be back in a couple minutes."

Bruce follows Lois and Kal out of the room, stepping ahead of them just before I lose sight of the three of them. Alfred comes in not a minute later, carrying a large piece of blueberry pie on a plate with two forks as well as my iced mocha. "Ah, Alfred... I don't think you need to bring out Lois or Kal's desserts." I then notice the second fork. "What's that for?"

"It seems Master Bruce's expectations were accurate," he comments. He smiles to me. "He warned me before I left that he would execute his plan before dessert if it was still needed. He said that I would likely not need to worry about filling their dessert requests, telling me he would leave them to themselves to discuss dinner's revelations. He also asked me to make whatever dessert you requested a dessert for two."

He straightens, fetches Bruce's chair and moves it around to the head of the table, putting it on the corner to my left. "Ahh, excellent timing, Master Bruce!" I look up from the chair to Alfred, then follow his gaze down the table to see Bruce coming back in. "I assume the evening is progressing as you anticipated, sir," he says in a more even tone.

"So far, at least." He waits a breath or two. "I could still hear them yelling at each other from the foyer." I continue following him with my eyes as a smile crosses his lips. He walks behind my chair, reaching over it and resting his hands atop my shoulders. "But I," he begins while rubbing my shoulders for all too short a time, "do not care…"

"But, Bruce, what's—"

"Red solar lamps. If anyone in that room is getting hurt, it's going to be Clark." He lets my shoulders go and sits down on the other side of the table's corner.

"Will you need anything else, Master Bruce?" Alfred asks as Bruce seats himself.

"No. Thank you, Alfred." Alfred nods and begins to leave, but as Bruce takes my left hand in his right, he calls to the older man again. "Alfred, has Tim already left?"

"Yes, though I imagine he is still in the cave."

"Catch him if you can. Tell him to be careful. Patience before prejudgment."

"Of course, sir, I'll let him know you wish him to stay safe."

"Thank you, Alfred."

He turns back to me as Alfred leaves the room. He gives a confident smile, then reaches for his fork. "Shall we, Princess?"

I shake my head as I chuckle amusedly. At the same time, I take my own fork and we reach towards the large slice of pie. We move our forks to the center of the slice's tip and split it, then we both cut a piece to eat. Our movements are nearly synchronized, though I'm not sure if I'm mirroring Bruce or if he's mirroring me.

We both take a good few more bites together. Just before swallowing one mouthful, I look over at Bruce and spot a little piece of blueberry on the corner of his mouth. I give his hand a gentle squeeze to get his attention, then lean around the corner.

He gives a questioning hum just before I close in the rest of the way. I kiss the corner of his lips where the blueberry is, quickly swallow it, and then move over a little to kiss him properly. He kisses back immediately. The brush of his lips is delectable.

I lean back a little, hoping he'll chase after me to resume our kiss. I open my eyes when I feel Bruce's thumb rubbing the back of my palm instead. His silent expression is disappointing to see, a clear sign that our kiss is over.

I then notice the clink of metal on porcelain. I look down at our shared plate and see him lifting his fork away with a piece of pie carefully balanced over it. A blueberry drops back down to the plate and he then swings it away, but instead of to himself, he extends the mouthful of food towards me.

"Bruce?" I ask, but he only smiles back.

The loaded fork gets closer and I realize what he intends, so I open my mouth for him and lean closer. A breath later, fork and pie pass out of my field of view. Almost immediately after, I feel the cool touch of the fruit filling on my upper lip and in the corner of my mouth. The fork's four prongs touch my tongue and I close my mouth over the sweet dessert on the fork's head.

He begins to pull the fork away, leaving the pie behind. I give a moan of appreciation and delight before beginning to chew. I look back to Bruce and notice him closing in. While I quickly swallow, he does as I had, kissing the corner of my mouth to catch the pieces of blueberry he clearly left intentionally. He then kisses the edge of my upper lip, cleaning away the rest of the spilled pie filling.

He leans back when he's done. The tip of his tongue comes out from between his lips and he licks them clean. My gaze is drawn to his lips, to his tongue, and I notice my excitement—far more than I should be from a little sharing of food. I realize a moment later that he's leaning closer again and my breath stops with a hitch.

His lips are upon me again and I let out another moan. I hear another clink and then a tug at the fork in my hands. My hand is emptied a moment later and I feel Bruce moving at the same time. His lips come apart from mine and I open my eyes to find him standing. I rise as well and his lips meet mine again as soon as my legs are straight.

Bruce's arms surround me, cradling me. With the gentle caress of his lips on mine, my body wants to sink deeper into his grasp. I want to sink deeper. I nearly let myself, let him take advantage of our slight difference in height, a difference erased with the aid of footwear, but there's an amusement, an excitement to being on more even terms.

So I push back. I make my own bid for the lead. My hands come up between our bodies. I press my right hand to the side of Bruce's head, my thumb in front of his ear, my palm and fingers wrapping behind his head. My left hand I maneuver behind him, wrapping my fingers over the base of his neck on his left, the rest of my arm draped back and over his right shoulder.

Bruce's hands roam my backside as our lips continue to caress and capture one another. Occasionally, he spends a few extra moments paying attention to my rear. Sometimes, he teases his hands along my sides and along the upper hem of my dress. Our breathing is becoming more ragged, labored. I notice I'm pressing myself against him and tightening my fingers over the muscles at the base of his neck in time with my breath.

He takes a step back and I lean forward unintentionally as he falls back a little. I hear him groan against my lips, but I can tell it's from pain. I lift myself away and realize how far back I've moved him, notice that his right hand is on the table instead of on me. I fall still and silent as I think about the slight reversal from when we stood up.

My breathing begins to even. "Maybe…we should finish dessert," Bruce suggests as he begins to release me.

I flash him a quick smile as I calm further and turn to the plate and the pie still there, the crust and maybe a half dozen bites between the two of us. I relax my grip, letting my hands slide back over as much of his shoulder and chest as is practical as we come apart. "Well, at least Alfred had the good mind to serve it chilled."

Bruce sits back in his seat as I round the corner and lower myself back into mine. He gives a low grunt of an amused laugh and picks his fork back up. "He probably has more intuitive expectations of tonight than I did."

"Speaking of which…" He lifts his fork from the plate with a piece of pie and takes a bite as I reach towards the plate with my own. "…we should probably check if Lois and Kal are still arguing with each other when we're done."

Bruce gives a nod of agreement and we fall silent while we finish our dessert. Afterwards, I remember my iced mocha and pick up the nearly half-full glass as Bruce picks up the rest of the table to bring to Alfred in the kitchen. I wait for him at one of the dining hall's windows, looking out across the driveway and front lawn of Wayne Manor while slowly nursing my drink.

When he comes back, we head for the foyer. Neither of us hear yelling—an encouragement, to be sure—so we continue on towards where Bruce left our Kryptonian friend and his newly-enlightened girlfriend. "Oh, alright…" I comment as we move away from the center of the hall and approach a door.

"What?"

"I didn't realize you stuck them in the same room you asked them to put their bags."

"Yeah. That's where I asked Alfred to set up the red solar lamps."

"Are they still in there? I don't hear them arguing."

"They're…definitely not. And they should be in there." Bruce points to the red-tinged light bleeding out from under the door's bottom edge. "They left the solar lamps on."

Bruce and I approach the door together, neither of us reaching for the doorknob. His expression turns pensive as he waits and listens. It seems quiet for a moment, then I hear a drawn out, feminine moan. In the middle of it, a low, masculine voice exclaims Lois's name.

I stand straight, stepping back from the door in surprise and notice Bruce's flabbergasted expression. A moment later, it's replaced with clear irritation. He lifts his right hand slowly towards his shoulder, his hand open, but his fingers half-curled. He closes his hand into a tight fist as more muffled sounds filter through the door to us.

His stiff hand quivers in the air for a moment before he shoots it back down to his side. His left hand, meanwhile, reaches out for my shoulder. He turns me from the door as he falls into step with me and leads me back towards the foyer.

I wait until we're a good few steps from the door. "Bruce?"

"I did not see that coming."

"Are they doing what I think—"

"Most likely." We both fall silent for a moment. "Damn it! If I had known this would happen, I'd have left them in a spare bedroom instead of the sitting room…"

We get all the way out to the foyer. "Alfred's going to hate me when I tell him what's happening right now."

"Why?"

"Clean up."

"Oh…" Bruce starts walking again, heading now towards the kitchen. A smile crosses my lips and I say jokingly, "Well, that sounds like a job for Superman."

Bruce stops. He turns around to face me. He regards me with a blank expression for a few seconds, then lifts a hand between us, his index finger extended like he's going to lecture me. The smile begins to drop from my face. "Good point," he says, turning his hand to point more directly at me.

"Wait. Seriously? I was half-joking, Bruce."

He turns again, back down the hall towards the kitchen door. "Why not? His actions, his responsibility."

"So, then what do we tell Alfred?"

"To take them to a hotel when Kent's finished cleaning." We come to a stop at the kitchen door and Bruce turns back to me. He lifts his hand again, his finger once more extended. He gives me a smile over it and a nod as he begins opening the door.

"Alright, I'll wait here."

"Thanks." He then ducks inside. The door closes for the most part, so I don't hear the bulk of their quiet conversation.

After a short while, Bruce reemerges. He shakes his head as he closes the door behind him. "Should have known."

"What?"

"Alfred figured it out before I sat down for dessert." He shakes his head again in disgust. "That's an idea that's going to haunt me."

I can't help but laugh. At the same time, though, I admit to myself that the idea is a little weird, knowing something like that about so close a friend. I hear footfalls to my left from down the hall.

"What's going to haunt you, Bruce?"

We both turn to the new voice, see Lois and Kal walking up the hall toward us. Both are disheveled. They look like they had dressed hurriedly, without concern nor care beyond wearing a complete outfit when all was said and done. Kal's hair looks like he'd run a comb through it in the wrong direction a few times and Lois's looks like she'd just come in from a severe wind storm and had made only the most cursory effort to straighten it with her hands.

"One guess," Bruce replies from beside me. Kal begins to open his mouth, but Bruce cuts him off before he can even begin to speak. "Yeah. That. You clean up after yourselves?"

"Geez, Bruce, you sound like a parent. Something happen with you and Diana that you aren't telling the rest of us?"

Bruce lifts his arms, crosses them. "Alfred isn't hotel staff."

Kal puts a hand on Lois' shoulder and sighs. "Yes, Bruce, we turned off the lamps and I cleaned."

"Good. Now, what's next?"

"Well, we might be going to go out on a limb here, Bruce, but there was never a scoop for us as reporters, was there?"

Bruce and I both shake our heads in response to Lois's question.

"Yeah, that's what we realized. So, if you don't mind, I'm just going to take Lois back to Metropolis and get out of your hair."

"I'd appreciate that." I look over at Bruce for the callous tone. I elbow him in the side. He gives a groan and then speaks up again, his tone much more relaxed, sort of sarcastic. "Just don't ever let me hear anything about you breaking up again or that you don't trust one another anymore."

We share a good laugh before the four of us return to the foyer. I'm a little surprised to see their bags all in a pile by the front door. _'So they were probably coming to tell us they were heading back home.'_

The thought brings me pause. I almost miss as we begin heading outside. We bid each other a round of farewells and good nights, then Kal picks their bags back up with one arm and pulls Lois in tight with the other. Lois embraces Kal tightly and a moment later, they're in the air. The pair quickly disappear over the roof and I'm tempted to lift myself into the air to watch until they're out of sight.

Bruce and I head back inside after a few more moments looking to the sky. We return to the living room and relax together for a while. We cuddle, we kiss, but neither of us is yet ready to make that final leap as Lois and Kal had. Even so, there's a contentedness between us, a mutual satisfaction and an appreciation for the safety in which we chose to wait.

Finally, it ends—not the emotions, but the moment. Bruce announces his intent to begin his patrol after Alfred drops in to ask if there's anything we need. It's disappointing, of course, but he would not be the Bruce I've fallen in love with if not for Batman. _'And I respect him enough to appreciate that…and I know that Batman will likely always be a part of his life in at least some capacity.'_

So, we stand up together, me telling Alfred that I'm going to turn in for the evening. Bruce turns at my announcement, then takes my hands. I turn to him and we lean closer to one another, share a passionate kiss. As we pull apart, we trade soft whispers, loving endearments. Then, finally, we let one another go. I head to my room with Alfred and Bruce goes to the study to descend into the hidden Batcave.

Almost before I know it, the walk upstairs and to my room is over. "Do you need anything more, Miss Diana?" Alfred asks as I step through the doorway.

"No, Alfred. Thank you. I'll manage." I return his well-wishes for a good night's rest, then close the door and turn back towards the stately bed awaiting me. I look the rest of the room over again as I lift first my left foot and then my right to remove my high-heeled shoes.

My mind returns to previous trains of thought. All the personal belongings that scream my name. My own relaxedness in this room, in the whole of the mansion. _'Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing…to stop bargaining, to stop being nervous or anxious…to call this place where Bruce lives…to call Wayne Manor…home…'_

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**Author's Note: **Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.**  
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	5. Investigate

**Author's Note:** I apologize for the delays. Hit a bad Point A to Point B block. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

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Before my eyes, so many of my closest allies fight for their lives. Clark Kent, Superman. J'onn J'onzz. John Stewart, Green Lantern. Wally West, Flash. Shayera Hol. Occasionally, I see each of them emerge from the fog in front of me, only to watch them dash back in to continue fighting an enemy obscured within.

I'm running as fast as I can across the nearly featureless landscape towards them. I feel the shock of each impact traveling up my legs with my footfalls, but no matter how much effort I put out, I don't seem to be getting any closer to their battle.

I begin to pass impact craters and scorch marks. They're moving as they fight. _'Why are they keeping me away?'_

Suddenly, a figure appears before me. I come to a quick stop. "Diana!" She is floating inches over the ground, holding her arms straight out to her sides and her feet spread slightly.

She holds her silence. "Why are you stopping me? What are they fighting?" She drops back to the ground, steps towards me. "Diana, what's going on?"

"We can't help them, Bruce." Her words are emotionless. She reaches towards me and wraps her arms around me in a comforting embrace. Well behind her, the fog obscuring our friends and allies begins to recede. "It's not your fight, or mine."

The fog explodes outward, vanishes. In its wake I see my allies' opponents: themselves. More specifically, the Justice Lords. Superman and his counterpart catch each other in the air and grapple. After a moment, two dual beams of heat vision clash between them, bathing the battlefield with a reddish tinge.

"No, Bruce, they aren't the Justice Lords. They aren't even real. They're fighting themselves, the darkness in their own selves." I lean back, stare at Diana quizzically. She begins turning her head to her right. "Ours are there."

I follow her gaze, see our doubles motionless on the ground. It doesn't take long for me to see why. The batarang in my counterpart's hand, the dagger in Diana's. They killed each other.

I close my hands into fists, but feel something in my right hand. I turn my head back quickly, see the batarang I'm gripping tightly. I next notice the position of my arm, the pointed wingtip of the batarang pressed against the armor at Diana's stomach. At the same time I see the ceremonial dagger held tightly in her hand and feel its tip through the fabric of my Batsuit.

I immediately move my hand away, but the motion does not translate from my mind to my arm. My hand stays still. "This is our battle, Bruce." There's a sadness to Diana's voice that stabs at my heart. I find myself checking below to make sure that her blade has not pierced my gut.

"Bruce…" I look back up to Diana's face. She reaches up with her free hand, pushes my cowl up and out of the way. Her hand stays on the back of my head and she leans forward, kisses me gently. "Bruce, if it comes to it…save yourself."

Shock fills me as Diana leans back, straightening herself and letting her hand fall away from my head as a loving smile lifts the corners of her mouth. "No!" My free hand shoots out. I grip her upper arm with a firm, reassuring hand. "I won't! No matter what happens—"

I feel hands on the back of my upper right arm. A familiar voice whispers behind me as if to finish my promise, "You'll kill her." It's my own. The hands begin to push. I cry out in denial, a wordless shout as I turn back and fight back against the hands wrapping around my arm.

The tip of Diana's blade presses more tightly against my stomach and I turn back from the shortest of glimpses of the shadowy black form behind me. Diana's teeth are bared, her eyes are closed, her brow is furrowed.

I immediately notice the dark form behind her. It's like a shadow of her own self. It's pushing her arm with a look of malicious glee on its face. I can see the bloody batarang sticking out of its stomach. I have a better idea now of what is behind me. As the realization crosses my thoughts, its push grows quickly more forceful.

My free left hand darts across my chest to grip my right forearm and hold it still. "It's no use," it whispers to me in my own voice, "You are not strong enough to save her by yourself, let alone can you save your own self…"

"No!" I exclaim in reply, locking my arms as best I can. The words repeat themselves in my mind over and over again. I feel my will beginning to falter.

Realization suddenly strikes. "Diana!" I lift my gaze to her and see her doing the same. I look down again, hoping her gaze will follow. I dart my left arm away, extending it and wrapping my left hand around her upper arm just above her elbow. She follows my example a moment later as I lock my arm in place.

I lift my gaze and smile reassuringly at Diana. Her expression brightens as an angered hiss comes from the shadow of myself behind me. Diana and I trade glances for a moment before I turn to the thing behind her. Its scowl of frustration is satisfying to see.

It focuses after a moment and I feel more force against my left hand. I lean into my shoulder as much as I can, trying to hold my arm steady. It grows quickly more forceful. As it approaches a steady constant, I feel a sickening sensation in my gut.

With a pair of cracks, both my left radius and ulna snap. Pain overwhelms me as my forearm collapses on itself. I cry out in anguish, barely aware of Diana shouting my name in horror. My arm goes limp, wedged between my shoulder and her forearm. That's when I notice another pain.

My arm seems to fade from my mind, as if it were never there. I look down as I feel myself losing energy, getting tired. I see why my arm stopped. I cannot see the blade of Diana's dagger, it's embedded fully in my gut.

"_Bruce!_" Diana cries again. I strain, somehow managing through the pain to smile for her. I pull my left hand back from her right arm and drape the broken appendage over her left wrist, a silent plea for her to keep my right arm in place.

A darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision. I feel my arm losing strength. The horror and the worry on Diana's expression shifts quickly to anger. With a shout, she pulls the dagger from my gut, the pain shocking me back to full awareness. She pivots back, throwing her shadow self away behind herself, then lunges forward, kicking my shadow self away.

The batarang drops from my hand and I stagger forward, right into Diana's arms. I do my best to recover, trying to stand straight on my own as I put my right hand on her waist. I lift my hand along Diana's side, standing more confidently when I see Diana's shadow self rushing towards us.

Determination numbs all feeling, the pain in my gut and left arm. I push Diana aside and rush forward. With my right hand, I catch the shadow's outstretched dagger-wielding hand and throw myself at it. I cross my legs over its chest, holding its arm against my chest. We begin falling, both of us landing on our backs. Finally, I bring my mangled left arm up, holding my elbow over her captive arm as best I can.

"Diana!" I exclaim, turning my head to the real Amazon. She dashes forward, jumping into the air at the last moment and planting both knees into her shadow's stomach. It screams in pain for a moment before losing substance, replaced in a dark flash by a black cloud of smoke.

The Themysciran princess recovers quickly, spinning around and flying back the other way. I recover as hastily as I can with both legs and only my right arm. I turn around soon enough to see Diana just before she reaches my shadow double.

She delivers something of an airborne roundhouse kick to the base of its neck. Like the shadow of Diana, my shadow double transforms into a cloud of smoke. For a moment, her kick appears to decapitate it before its form becomes gaseous and quickly dissipates.

I begin to relax, lift my right hand to the stab wound in my chest. The scene fades a moment later. I open my eyes again to my bedroom and realize what I've just experienced. I notice my right hand on my stomach, already over where Diana's dagger had pierced me.

"That's disconcerting." For all the dreams I've had so far, I've never woken up afterwards in the same position as at the end of a dream.

I lift myself, sitting up, holding my hand still on my stomach. A moment later, the door opens and I look up to see Alfred standing in the doorway to the hall. He regards me for a moment in silence. "Another dream, Master Bruce?" I nod in response. "I see. Well, sir, perhaps it would be best discussed among company."

I nod again, lift myself from the bed. I head for the bathroom, take a quick shower. When I come back out into my bedroom, I dress and head downstairs after noticing the door to Diana's room is slightly ajar.

When I get downstairs, I spot Alfred coming down the hall from the kitchen. "Ahh, Master Bruce, breakfast will be ready shortly. I was just going to inform Miss Diana and let her know that you were awake."

"I'll take care of that. Where is she?"

"The living room, sir."

I give Alfred my thanks and then turn towards the living room. After a short walk, I step into the living room. Diana turns to me as soon I enter. She gets up from her seat on the sofa when I come off the bottom step. She's wearing a light sweater in a medium shade of gray and a pair of denim jeans.

"Good morning, Bruce."

"Good morning, Diana."

I approach her and lift my arms to embrace her. My hands meet her sides just above the edge of her ribs. Her hands find my own sides in much the same place as we pull each other closer. She leans towards me and I lean a little further, closing my eyes and letting her kiss me.

As soon as I feel the softness of her lips, my fingers curl, my grip tightening for a moment. I begin kissing back against Diana and lower my hands along her sides. She gives a little moan against my lips as I settle my hands on her waist and pull, closing the distance between our hips.

Diana pulls her lips away and gifts me a sultry smile. She reaches further behind me and puts her hands on my back. She slides them down, settling them onto my rear and giving me a firm squeeze, lifting me with her hands and kissing me again. To punctuate her reply, she bites my lip between her upper lip and the teeth of her lower jaw. Her grip behind me tightens as she gives my lip a little harder of a nip.

With her lips, she lets go quickly, preferring instead to kiss me and I do my best to match her passion. She relaxes her hands after a few breathes, then leans away, though keeping her hands in place. I relax my grip but keep my hands in place as she chuckles through her smile.

"I didn't know you were awake already, Bruce."

"I caught Alfred as he was about to come tell you about that and that breakfast is nearly ready." She gives a small acknowledging nod. "How long have you been awake?"

"A couple hours, maybe. I had a nice talk with Tim and had my first mocha of the day with Alfred while he had tea. When Alfred left to bring Tim to school, I went on a bit of a…self-guided tour of the manor."

"Find anything interesting?" I ask with a smirk.

"Well…you know I've seen most of it already, but I spent a long time in the sitting room. For the most part I kind of zoned out, staring at your parents' portrait."

_'My parents' portrait…'_

"Bruce? What's wrong?" Diana's voice snaps me back. "Is that something I'm not supposed to do?"

"What? No, no." I shake my head to emphasize. "It's not what you did, I just remembered what else happened under that portrait…"

"Oh! You mean Kal and…" She laughs. "No. Alfred found me in the sitting room when he got back. He told me that part of the room had been cordoned off with the drapes. Kal certainly cleaned, but he managed to hang one of the drapes back up wrong. Alfred noticed the misaligned hooks and spent a while after you left and I went to bed doing more cleaning."

"Well…that makes it slightly less disturbing." I shake my head again. "I knew I should have told Clark to go back and clean again."

She laughs again, then gives me a quick kiss. As her lips leave mine, I give the suggestion of making our way to the dining room to eat. Diana immediately agrees and we disentangle our arms and make our way across Wayne Manor hand-in-hand.

Alfred comes in and serves us each eggs Benedict with Canadian ham just as we sit down. We eat in relative silence, each happy with our meal. Finally, when I finish my breakfast a few bites ahead of Diana, I ask the foremost question on my mind, "How was it last night, Diana?"

She begins to answer, but pauses. She closes her eyes and flashes me a demure smile. "It was nice… I'd forgotten how comfortable the beds are here. The robes, too."

I give a short chuckle. "So, can I ask if you'd be interested in another night?"

She laughs for a moment, then nods as she lifts her gaze to me. "Yeah... I've actually been thinking about that for a while. Since I arrived in Man's World, I've always thought of the Watchtower as my home. Even so, since the invasion, I've had a lot of trouble bringing myself to make my room in the new Watchtower _feel_ like home again.

"Actually thought I might be able to collect things again for my room until the binary fusion cannon was decommissioned. If worse comes to worse, what do we do? Evacuate the annexes and throw them at our problems or evacuate to them and drop the Watchtower again?" She gives a short, dry laugh, then shakes her head before refocusing.

"When I arrived yesterday afternoon, I spent a moment looking my room over. I realized that I'd moved nearly everything I collected beforehand to my room here. Wayne Manor has already become my home…everywhere but here." Diana lifts her hand to her head, taps with her index finger. "I think it's time to acknowledge it and embrace the idea."

"I'm glad to hear," I reply with a smile. She smiles back and any further response I had dies in my head. I don't need to say any more when she can read my thanks on my expression.

We both fall silent for a short time as Diana finishes her meal. Alfred comes in not much later to collect our plates and silverware. We waste no time with games, sharing the news with him. His outward excitement, I think, makes up for my self-restraint.

When we've settled from Diana's decision and the two of us are alone in the dining room again, I ask what she plans to do for the day. Her response is a lot of time on standby on the Watchtower. Afterwards, I decide it's time and explain the dream I woke up from earlier in the morning.

She sits silent for a few moments in the wake of my recount. Eventually, she laughs. "And here I am deciding to move into Wayne Manor. It sort of feels like we're walking into that one, you and I in our own private struggle apart from the rest of the League's founders while they deal with something else."

"Enough to change your mind?" I ask a little aloofly.

"Of course not." She smirks. "If Apollo means to challenge us, Bruce, I intend to meet his challenges head-on. I have faith in you, I have faith in our friends, and I have faith in our allies. Whatever happens, we will not fall."

The phrase "famous last words" comes to mind, but I hold my tongue, preferring not to jinx us. "In any case, Diana, that I woke up in much the same position I was in at the dream's end is worrying. Your visions were about the past and the present. My dreams were perhaps originally a vision of an alternate world, a possibility that I'm happy to say did not come to pass.

"Since then, my dreams and yours seem to have changed focus, becoming visions of the future. Still, I see no cause for either of us to become nameless Panthera leo anytime soon, so I don't believe that any of our dreams will turn out to be literal predictions."

"No, I don't think so either, Bruce, but if not literal, they could always have symbolic significance. Metaphors of the future, if you will." She pauses. "There are a few that don't seem all that far-fetched, though. Take, for example, the dream you had with me patrolling Gotham alongside you."

My expression sours. "Well, it beats our shadowy doppelgangers forcing us to stab each other, doesn't it?" Her response clarifies her intended meaning enough that I relax. Still, my mind goes back to the Shadow Thief and I nearly make mention of that particular incident aloud.

"Well, either way, we can't ignore that Apollo is the god of prophecy. Correct me if you interpreted it differently, Bruce, but how you woke up might be a sign that the dreams are getting closer to becoming reality, or—in the very least—predicting it metaphorically."

I nod in reply. I don't want to admit it, but… "It seems like a convergence of sorts." I take a deep breath as I stand. _'I'll need to be more cautious on patrol and during missions with the League.' _I close my eyes for a moment. _'Maybe Diana, too…'_

She follows to her feet and we meet by the head of the table to embrace. Before we separate, we share a few relaxed kisses. We resolve to spend more time on it later, then head for the front door, ready to begin our respective days.

Alfred meets us in the foyer. He tells us the car is ready in the parking loop, then addresses Diana to hand her a set of keys for the manor so that she may come and go as she pleases. She thanks my elder friend, and then we all head outside. Alfred and I climb into the car and Diana waves us off as we head out.

As we drive into Gotham, I retell my latest dream to Alfred. He is quick to agree with my own assessment. "Though perhaps it is an issue more about yourself than the dreams, sir," he then offers. "Rather, consider a therapist and their patient. The patient may be reluctant at first, but open up to their therapist in time and over the course of many sessions."

"Are you saying the point of these dreams is to ease my concerns? That Diana started dreaming to ease her own?"

"I wouldn't presume, sir, but I would like to remind you what Miss Diana said about her initial visions; they seemed to address the doubt she held in the League's effectiveness."

I cross my arms against my chest and my legs at the knee while giving a contemptuous humph. "Doubt that the visions themselves caused."

"Perhaps not, sir." I pause, look for Alfred's eyes in the rearview mirror with my curiosity plain on my face. "You and Miss Diana both seem quite convinced that the god responsible is Apollo, that there's an element of prophecy at work.

"You'll have to forgive me as it's been a while since I last attended grammar school, but I believe that as you may have said yourself, Apollo is also the Greek god of truth. I don't believe a god of truth would have been capable of fabricating such feelings. I believe Miss Diana held those doubts all along, perhaps buried so deeply that even she did not realize they existed."

After a moment, I give a hum of agreement and my expression becomes far more pensive. Before long, I ask how it all connects back to his alternative theory for my dreams. "Ahh, yes," he begins, "Consider yourself the patient, Master Bruce. Each dream—each session, if you will—is acclimatizing you. As I said, a patient becomes more willing to share in due time."

"For what? You think I'm supposed to do something? That Apollo means to do something _through_ me?"

"Not necessarily, no. I only mean that it is a possibility, one which I haven't heard you or Miss Diana discuss."

It's an interesting point, I'll give him that. And not at all a comforting one. The idea sticks with me throughout my day. In moments of peace, I try to think about what Alfred's alternate theory could mean. The idea that makes the most sense is that I'm becoming weak to these dreams. That whatever defenses they're supposed to break down are failing and that I only have so long until they crumble.

If Alfred's right, I might lose myself to these dreams. If he's wrong and our original assumptions prove correct, than my dreams might start coming to pass. Either way, it seems that I have little time. I need an avenue, some sort of plan.

If the dreams are predictors to some future event, then there is nothing I can do. However, if they're meant to affect me, then I need to do something myself. The question is: what?

Eventually, Alfred's analogy comes back to mind. A therapist and a patient. For some reason, I mull that idea over for a while. Then a solution hits me: the trust between a doctor and their patient.

I've spent so long in each dream trying to figure out the why, the purpose. Subconsciously, I suppose I've never considered that the dreams could be intended to harm me. So the issue becomes one of defenses. I need to figure a way to break whatever trust, whatever hold the dreams have over me already. But how?

An answer for that comes to me during a business meeting in the middle of the afternoon, again from the trusting relationship of a patient and therapist. _'I must be treating the dreams similarly, subconsciously trusting that they will not affect me, that it's all purely sensory information.'_

To mentally distance myself from the dreams presents a problem in and of itself. With a mere couple of exceptions, I've never known myself to be dreaming. The only times were the second and third parts of my initial series of dreams, notably the only dreams I've had where my perspective was essentially that of a ghost, an observer neither seen nor heard.

The question remains open throughout the rest of my day. I explain my thoughts to Alfred as he returns us to Wayne Manor at the end of the workday, but he lacks first-hand experience with the dreams, so he has trouble coming up with any ideas. We arrive to a manor empty but for Tim, so I decide to wait for Diana to ask her thoughts.

Tim spends the early evening on his schoolwork, getting it out of the way before he has to leave for patrol with Barbara. I'm surprised when dinnertime comes around and the only ones at the table are myself and Tim. A small part of me beyond the curiosity is worried by Diana's absence, but I tell myself she'll be alright, that until the dreams give me reason to believe any different, I'm the one who needs worry.

After dinner, as Alfred collects Diana's portions for the refrigerator, Tim and I head to the cave. We conduct a briefing of sorts on the current level of crime in Gotham while waiting for Barbara to arrive so the two of them can begin their patrol. While waiting, we spend some extra time delving into past data, noticing trends by city districts and neighborhoods as we each adjust our goals and routes for the night.

Finally, the door to the Batcave opens and Barbara comes downstairs, though not alone. I cannot help but feel relieved to see her coming down the stairs alongside Diana. The two women reach the tail end of their conversation as they approach Tim and myself. I stand up from the Batcomputer to greet Diana as Barbara and Tim head for the changing rooms to quickly don their outfits.

We spend a minute in silence. "Evening, Bruce," Diana finally begins, perhaps a little shyly.

"Diana." I smile as best I can. "Good to see you back safe. We missed you at dinner."

Apology crosses her royal countenance. "I know. I'm sorry, Bruce. I'd have come looking for you sooner, but Alfred offered to reheat my meal and I was pretty hungry. I volunteered to lead a mission at the end of the afternoon."

I nod with understanding as my young allies give me a small wave before climbing onto their motorcycles and zipping off, into the early Gotham night. "What was the mission?"

"Just Sinestro and a few other remnants of Grodd's Secret Society. It wasn't too much trouble."

I bite down the rest of my curiosity and nod. While Grodd has been missing since about the time of Darkseid's revival, I doubt any of his old followers know any more about what happened to him now than when we first captured them in the aftermath. If there was anything new to be gleamed from Diana's mission, I can read about it later in her team's mission reports.

Instead, I change tracks and share with Diana my own day, though my focus is on Alfred's alternative theory and my own resulting ideas. She sees the sense in Alfred's theory and agrees that it might help to keep myself from trusting them. Before I can cast my own doubts, she tells me she expects it will be easier said than done.

"Why do you say that?"

"I was actually planning to ask you about that. In my dream, the whole thing felt real. It felt so real, so normal that it didn't cross my mind until Alfred started waking me up that anything else _could_ have been real. I figured that your experiences would have been similar."

I give a nod in reply and we both wait in silence. Neither of us have an idea for a solution, so we elect to return to the manor to share our time before I leave to join Barbara and Tim on patrol.

We spend a fair amount of time touring the manor at Diana's suggestion. I ask why and she tells me simply that she would like to experience it all from a new perspective, resident as opposed to guest.

Afterwards, we end up sharing a loveseat in the living room, sitting side-by-side and watching the sky through the large windows. It's cloudy outside, but we get a good view of the moon when they aren't in the way. The atmosphere actually sends my mind back to an array of my Halloween-like encounters. Tygrus and Garth, the Langstroms and Dr. March, and of course Anthony Romulus. _'Outside of the monstrous, Crane's Scarecrow outfit fits the theme as well,'_ I add to myself.

Eventually, the time comes for us to part. We rise together from our seats to share an embrace as well as a few kisses and heartfelt endearments. I walk with Diana to her bedroom door, bidding her a good night before making my way downstairs to the Batcave.

Before long, I'm suited up, sitting in the driver's seat of the Batmobile, and entering Gotham. I make my way to the heart of the city and cruise the streets of my home for nearly a half hour before finding an alley to park in. After climbing out, I engage the Batmobile's security systems and fetch the grapnel from my belt.

With another glance towards my car, I aim the grapnel to the tallest roof in sight, a small apartment complex, and fire. In mere seconds, I'm looking down upon my city's streets from above.

I stand tall on the rooftop for a while, lifting my gaze to scan the Gotham skyline. Finally, I turn south and take to the air once more with my grapnel's help. I go back over the areas I drove through, looking for criminals stupid enough to stick their necks out after seeing me drive away.

I apprehend three men and a small gang before I decide it's time to get to my regular route. As soon as I start, I bring a hand to my cowl and use its communication suite to contact Batgirl and Robin. "This is Batman, I'm starting my route," I say over the general channel.

My young allies respond presently and the channel goes silent. For a moment, I'm sure I heard a sense of relief in Robin's tone. It can't be anything too bad, or I'd have heard about it before leaving.

I continue my route as normal, capturing a mugger, a purse-snatcher near a night club, and breaking up a gang fight between a few of Joker's men and a few of Two-Face's. I take the opportunity to press one of Joker's men for information about his boss, but I'm quite sure by the end of the interrogation that the present conflict was nothing more than a territory dispute between the two psychopaths' lackeys.

Eventually, I find myself pausing to rest for a few moments on the roof of Gotham Delizioso. The area seems to be at peace and so I spend a while walking from one corner of the roof to the next. Even as I keep an eye out for any suspicious activity around me, my mind is filled with thoughts of Diana. I think about our relationship, the progress we've made together, the new change in living arrangements.

I'm really for the most part happy about the developments, but there's a part of me that's still nervous, still anxious. There's something that's missing. I know what it is. Somehow, I can't yet think the word. Instead, my body moves of its own accord.

A handful of grapnel shots later and with some distance covered by gliding with my cape, I'm standing on a roof across the street from a small, high-end jeweler's. I can see a few display cases through the window. If the roof below me were a little lower, I'm sure that I'd be able to see the ring I've been eyeing with the aid of my cowl's night vision.

_'Marriage…'_ I want it more than anything. I want Diana more than anything. Still, I have my hesitations, my reservations. Would Diana truly want it, would it mean anything to her? Romantic relationships aside, could the Amazon's princess accept being bound by marriage to a man? What about children? Would she want them? With Tim and Dick, do I really need children of my own?

That thought of children brings its own universe of problems. I'm as sure now as I was before the Justice League, I will someday need to pass the Batcave and the mantle of Batman on to another. At present, I would like to extend any aid possible to Dick in Blüdhaven and give the rest to Tim and Barbara so they could continue to protect Gotham on their own. Diana presents a complication to that plan. If we married, if we had children, it'd be naïve to think that they would separate themselves from our dangerous world and live simple lives of peace.

Regardless, what about Diana? How long could she live a Wayne? I called her an immortal and, while I'm sure she won't die on her own, I'm certain that she could still be killed. Mongul nearly saw to that. I clench my fists tightly without being aware of it. _'I shouldn't have remembered that…'_

My experience with the Black Mercy returns to the forefront of my mind. How could I risk bringing a child into such a world as I grew up in? In all these years, I've put out many fires, but I haven't won the war. I remember telling Alfred something similar one June before returning to Crime Alley on the anniversary of my parents' murder.

I smirk as another memory surfaces. "What'd you call it, Clark? The never-ending battle?" I repeat to myself just above a whisper. _'Yes. It is never-ending. But I end. We all do, even Diana sooner or later.'_ It's a morose thought, but it's true.

Someday, a new generation will need to stand up to the criminals of tomorrow. Whether it is Dick, Tim, Barbara, my own children, or youths yet to be born, they will need to be trained, prepared for the war which will define their very lives. _'I want to be—I need to be part of that.'_

Movement from below snaps me from my thoughts. I look down at the alleyway beside the jewelry shop and notice three men hiding in the shadows. One of them is at the end of the alleyway, looking back and forth down the street. I furrow my brow behind the cowl and take a quick look at the roofs around me.

There's a tall roof across the street that I can use, so I fire my grapnel and launch myself into the air. I release the grapnel's hook while in the air and as it retracts, my arms go to my cape and I glide around to the jewelry shop's roof. I lean over the edge beside a fire escape ladder and see the three men setting up a jackhammer to get through the exterior wall.

I'm about to drop down when one of the men speaks. "Come on, Bobby, you know the boss wants this job done quick!" he exclaims to his accomplice holding the jackhammer.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Just make sure no cops are coming."

The third man rushes back to the end of the alley just as the jackhammer-wielding Bobby turns the gas-powered tool on. "Or Batman!" he calls back over the device's motor. He's nervous.

I take a tethered batarang from my belt and vault over the edge of the roof, aiming to land feet-first on Bobby's shoulders. While still in the air, I throw the batarang at the nervous watchman at the end of the alley. It and the line wrap around his chest just as my feet make contact. I reach down with my right hand as Bobby and I drop to the ground, grabbing the jackhammer out of his hands before it can get out of control.

As Bobby settles on the ground below me, I deftly deactivate the power tool one-handed. As I stand back up, I cast the tool aside and give a strong yank on the line in my left hand, pulling the watchman in and off his feet. Before he can land, I rush towards him, punching him in the face to disorient him and leave him for later.

The third crook watches his accomplices taken out of commission in abject horror. Still, he manages to overcome himself and pull a knife before I can turn my attention to him. He lunges at me in a fit of rage, shouting in desperation. I stand stock still until he is nearly on me, then lift my right hand, swat his hand away, and pull out a length of my line to quickly bind him.

Satisfied with my handiwork, I kick the man's feet out from under him and let him crash to the ground while I make quick work of handcuffing the other two men. I growl in frustration seeing that the nervous man is unconscious. I must have hit him too hard.

I turn back to the bound man and see him struggling to get to his feet. I walk over to him and can't help but grin inwardly as he sees me approaching. "No! No, no, no, no… Stay away from me!"

I grab him by the back of his collar and drag him back over towards his accomplices. I take a few minutes stringing the two unconscious men up on a streetlamp set just far enough from the end of the alley to keep from illuminating it. Finally, I turn back to my captive. He gives a fearful shout as I reach towards him with my left hand and pick him back up off the ground by the front of his jacket and a few loops of my line.

I get my grapnel and fire it at the roof of the building neighboring the jewelry shop. Once we're up on the rooftop and off the street, I throw the frightened man towards the center of the roof. "Tell me who you work for!"

"Y-you think I'll squawk? You're fooling yourself!" It's a strong front, but I can tell he's the one fooling himself. I start stepping closer. "You can't! You won't kill me! Batman don't kill no one, everyone knows that!"

I give an amused humph in reply as I step ever closer to the downed man. "Oh, really?" A smirk crosses my lips as I reach down and pick him up again. "It's not that I don't want to. I don't _have_ to.

"Tell me, did you ever imagine what it would be like to _want_ to die, to wish I would kill you?" I begin walking towards the edge of the roof. "You're still young. Get out of this life, make something decent of yourself and you might live another sixty years or so."

My captive notices what I'm doing and looks back over his shoulder. He starts to struggle against me in earnest, but I hold firm. "No! No, you can't!" He turns his head back as he yells louder and louder. "You're not the only Justice Leaguer in Gotham!"

This is why I worried about having Diana or any other Leaguers in my city. My smile turns quickly to a scowl. "You think Wonder Woman will come to save you?" I furiously snarl, "This is _my_ city! So long as she's in Gotham, I _only_ tolerate her near Wayne!"

I fall silent for a few moments, satisfied by the shock my little outburst produced. The poor man's jaw hangs open stupidly. I calm my tone before continuing. "No… Right now, there's just you, me, and six stories to the street…"

I drop my left hand to my side after getting a better grip with my right hand, then hold the man over the edge of the roof to emphasize my point. "Tell me who you work for."

I can see the fear on his face, but I also see hesitation, so I get my grapnel ready with my left hand. I give him a few seconds more and, when he still doesn't answer, I drop him. As his scream floods out from the alley into the night air, I lean over and fire my grapnel down after him. It wraps quickly around his left leg from his knee all the way to his foot.

The line slows him a bit, but I give the grapnel a firm yank once I readjust my feet to bring him to a full stop him inches from the ground. I start retracting the line and in a few breaths, I'm holding him upside down by his ankle. He's panting with shock and occasionally groaning in pain from the strain to his leg.

He looks across to my boots momentarily before looking back up towards my face. He starts making some sort of noise, but he's completely incoherent. I turn, tossing him back onto the roof, but keeping the grapnel's line in place and letting it run slack from my left hand. He lands with a grunt and slides sideways a few inches before coming to a stop.

I start walking towards him again and he quickly recovers enough to turn himself over and try to lift himself up, arching himself like an inchworm to get to his feet. Before his knees can leave the ground, I plant my foot on his left calf and press down. He howls in pain and drops back to the ground.

I step back and, with my other foot, turn him back onto his back with the toe of my boot. "Last chance." I place my foot back on his lower left leg, the arch of my boot centered on his shin. "Three options: you tell me what I want to know; I break your leg, drop you again, then pull you back up by your broken leg; or I start breaking bones one at a time until you decide to talk."

I press a little with my foot and he soon cries out again. Before long, his cry fades into words. "—Ok, ok! I'll talk—just stop!"

I lift my foot away and let my captive take a few breaths to recover. He takes a few seconds longer than I'd like and as my patience begins to thin, he finally speaks. "I work for the Penguin. The boss sent a bunch of us out to big targets. I don't know what he wants, but rumors going around the boys say he's trying to raise a lot of dough real quick. I don't know why."

I lift my foot again, rest it on the man's shin. He starts whipping his head back and forth, shaking it in firm denial. "No, no! I swear on my mother—I don't know why!"

I take the answer for truth and quickly knock the man unconscious. I set about getting to work, cuffing the man and returning to the street with him to suspend him from the streetlamp with his accomplices. I then return to the roof while saying into my radio, "Batgirl, Robin, status report."

Batgirl responds first, reporting an all clear. Robin chimes in a few moments later, reporting an attempted bank robbery at the 1st Gotham Bank. "Explosives?" I ask.

"Disarmed. I already sent for the Batwing for a pick up."

"Good. I'll be there soon. Keep one of them awake. Batgirl, jewelry store on Maple downtown. Let Gordon know he needs to send officers for a pick up."

After Barbara's affirmative reply, I make my way quickly towards Robin and the 1st Gotham Bank. The Batwing is zooming away when I arrive and I luck out, spotting my ward and his captures in the alleyway as I pass overhead and land on the bank's roof. I drop down into the alley without any sort of preamble.

The would-be bank robber Robin left conscious falls silent at the sight of me. I regard Robin with a nod of acknowledgment and then turn towards him, lifting him up from the ground and holding him close to my face. I stare into his eyes intently as I lift him a few inches from the ground.

"I'm tired of interrogating crooks tonight." I tighten my grip and lower my voice. "Tell me who you work for and everything you know or get ready for a lot of pain and six months in a full-body cast."

I lift my right foot, push the man's feet to the right and drop him, letting him land on his back and moving my left foot to save his head from a painful collision with the alley's rough pavement. I bring my right foot back to the man's upper arm and step down.

The man gives a pained shout as he pulls at his trapped arm. "Penguin! I work for the Penguin!"

I relax my foot. "And?"

"I don't know why!"

I frown, then lean down and punch the man to knock him out. "Robin—" I start to say, but the sound of police sirens cuts me off. I look towards the end of the alley as red and blue lights begin flashing in towards us.

"Everybody freeze!" I hear in a familiar voice just as I see two figures start to round the corner. Detectives Bullock and Montoya.

"Batman!" Montoya exclaims as both officers begin to lower their weapons. "What happened here?"

"Penguin's thugs," I answer simply before moving my hand towards my grapnel.

I look to Robin and our eyes meet for long enough to convey my intent. He nods in response, then we both lift our grapnels to the skyline and fire, launching ourselves into the air and out of sight of both of Gordon's detectives.

When we're settled on a roof, Robin looks back towards the bank. "What's that all about, Batman?"

I pause before answering. "First a jeweler's, now a bank—that's the second robbery tonight set up by Penguin. The man I interrogated at the jeweler's said Penguin's looking to raise capital quickly." I spend a few more moments in contemplation. "Robin, keep searching. Get Batgirl up to speed. Focus on high-yield targets—banks, jewelry stores, high-end retail, electronics stores."

"What about you, Batman?"

"I'm going to find out what's going on here. I'm going to the Iceberg Lounge to investigate."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.

Once I got up to Batman's patrol, everything smoothed out well enough. I'm certainly excited for what comes next. Here's hoping a lot of you are, too!


	6. Desperation

**Author's Note:** I have been waiting a long time for this. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

* * *

The Iceberg Lounge. High class restaurant and nightclub. Front business for the Penguin. Staffed by handpicked thugs and Penguin's personal bodyguards.

I'm looking down at the building from a roof across the street. The hired muscle will be easy enough to deal with, but the bodyguards are always better trained. Then again, I don't plan on being spotted to have to deal with them.

I pull my right arm from my right knee and straighten. I lift it and aim my grapnel at a roof on the Iceberg Lounge's east side. I jump over the ledge of the roof, pushing off with my right foot as my grapnel pulls me through the air.

When I settle on the new roof, I turn back towards the establishment below and continue to study it. Before long, I notice a dark window large enough for me to get in through. I take another look around—checking for any signs of people watching out the windows—and don't see anything, so I grab onto my cape and prepare to jump.

After a quiet glide, I land softly on the roof below the dark window. To my luck, it's been left unsecured, so I waste no time climbing through. As soon as I have a chance to assess the room around me, I reach for the hidden control panel of my cowl's computer and download the building's schematics. With a little manipulation, I use the WayneTech satellite network to calibrate it against my location, turning the static information into a dynamic minimap.

Ready, I approach the door to the hallway. I spend a moment listening, then open the door quickly and slip into the light, closing the door behind myself as I make my way quickly to the Penguin's office. With a little patience, I slip inside unseen, confident with the aid of my cowl's thermal sensors that the office is empty.

I'm not sure how much time I'll have, so I hastily cross to Penguin's desk and scan the visible items, recording everything I see to review in full detail later. Beside a small stack of papers relating to the Iceberg Lounge's legitimate operations, I see a small pad of notes, including three seemingly incongruous words "Crazy Smelly Goodtime."

I take a deep breath, then risk discovery and reach for the ear of my cowl. "Alfred," I begin just above a whisper. After a few moments, by old friend answers and I continue, "Look up 'crazy smelly goodtime.' I'm not sure they're related. Cross-reference against criminal databases and then branch out until you have something."

"Of course, sir."

The channel goes silent and I return to my investigation. I can't find anything that might be related to Penguin's operation. "Sir, it's not a phrase, rather a set of nicknames in the GCPD criminal database. 'Crazy' is Lyle B. Nucamp, 'Smelly' is Dave T. Nugent, and 'Goodtime' is one Sally Nubank. I see no link between the three but that their files are the three preceding Edward Nygma's."

_'Riddler?'_ I can't help but wonder why. "Alright. Thank you, Alfred." I hear a noise from the hallway before I can pass along any other questions. I fall silent and hastily retrieve a bug from my utility belt's compartment. I reach as far under Penguin's desk as I can, then make for the windows.

I slip effortlessly back into the night and use my grapnel to pull myself out of sight and away from the building. I perch on a roof on the restaurant's south side and hold my left hand to my cowl as I listen intently to the bug's feed.

I hear a door slam shut. "How could you let this happen?" Doubtless an angry Cobblepot. "That's the fifth team! At this rate the Bat and his little flock won't leave enough to pay off the guards." There's a moment's pause. "It's only a matter of time before he comes here for me."

"Sir, our operations account for the interference of the Batman. At last report, we nearly have the necessary amount ready for delivery." A female voice, not one I recognize. It must be one of Penguin's bodyguards.

"Good! See to it that they reach Arkham before the Bat. I want the Judge delivered to me in an iron birdcage! I'm going to pay him back for my humiliation three-fold! Tonight, I clip his wings once and for all!"

"Of course, Mr. Cobblepot." Another female voice.

"The Judge?" I repeat to myself. The name is familiar to me, but I can't quite—_'Of course! Three-fold! Harvey Dent's third personality! Penguin's out for revenge on Two-Face!'_

It'd be easy enough to swoop back in and put a stop to Penguin's plan at the source, but there's enough bad blood between the two criminal kingpins that Penguin's men might be under orders to murder Harvey if something happens to their boss. I turn away from the Iceberg Lounge and fire by grapnel to the skyline, leaving the nightclub behind as I make my way back towards my parked Batmobile.

When I finally reach the parked vehicle, I hastily disable the security systems to gain entry. As the canopy closes over my head, I fire up the engine with one hand and reach for the communication system with the other. "Batgirl, Robin, status, now!"

"Batman, Robin and I linked up at another robbery site. One team slipped by me, but between us, we've stopped four robberies in progress," Batgirl replies.

I switch gears and rocket out of the alleyway. As I turn sharply with the aid of a hooked line and a lamppost, I speak. "Penguin's making a move on Two-Face. Both of you, go to the Iceberg Lounge and keep an eye out. I'm going to Arkham to try to keep Penguin's muscle from getting Dent out of the asylum. If I fail, you're the only people standing between Dent and the Grim Reaper."

"You want us to move on Penguin?" Robin asks as I throw traffic laws to the wind to more quickly navigate Gotham's streets.

"No, Robin, I don't want anyone in his operation to know we're moving on them until Dent is out of danger."

I speed through an intersection and spot a commercial truck slam on its brakes before it can go through the intersection. When I'm through the intersection, I reach for the Batmobile's control panels and activate the traffic light system, turning all the nearby lights red until I've had a chance to pass through.

I eventually make it safely to the edge of town and begin heading down the road leading straight to Arkham Asylum. I see the gothic-styled entrance gate and cross the median. I haven't seen anyone passing by going the other way, so I'm confident that Penguin's men will still be at the asylum.

Just before I reach the entrance, I slam on the Batmobile's brakes and swerve back towards the right lane and the support column of the asylum's arched sign. The Batmobile drifts at a diagonal down the road, nearly turning perpendicular before the rear driver's side slams into the support on the left side of the road. I release the brakes and straighten the wheels, retaining enough momentum for the front bumper to collide almost gently with the right-hand column.

I quickly shut the car's engines off and open the canopy. As soon as it comes to a stop behind me, I leap from the driver's seat and land beside the car. I stand, turn to the car while my right hand comes to my head to remotely activate the Batmobile's security systems. At the same time, I backpedal and glance to the ends of the car, satisfied that my parking job will make an effective roadblock.

Immediately, I turn on my heel and begin dashing up the road towards Arkham. To conserve my strength, I make use of my grapnel and the abundant supply of tree branches overhanging the road. Before long, I'm in the asylum's main parking lot.

I see an armored transport truck outside. The stenciled lettering on the sides of the truck reads "GCPD Prisoner Transport." It must be the one Penguin's men drove. I turn to make a quick stop by it before heading inside. I drop down onto my back beside the truck and reach up, grabbing hold of the vehicle's rear axle and pulling myself underneath it.

My hands go to my belt next and I secure small explosives around the U-joint at each end of the rear axle—enough to take the wheels off without destroying the end of the truck outright. I hope as I climb out from beneath the vehicle that I won't need to make use of them, but it's insurance in case I might miss my quarry on my way down to Two-Face's cell.

Without further delay, I head up to the front entrance to the asylum, bursting through the front doors. The small handful of guards in the main lobby give a start at my entry, one of them even leveling his firearm at me before he realizes who I am. I make a beeline for the security desk near the heavy door into the facility proper.

I slam both flat hands on the edge of the desk as I lean towards the guard sitting at the desk. "Two-Face. Now."

I can see the fear, confusion, and worry on the poor man's face, but I can't let myself be slowed by my own compassions. Luckily, my imposing stance and tone spur the man into action and he turns to the grid of security feeds. "Three officers arrived just before you. They just reached the wards on their way to move him to a holding cell at the GCPD HQ. They said he has an early morning trial appearance."

I'm already three steps from the desk before the guard can finish his last sentence. The other guards move out of my way as I wordlessly head deeper inside. The elevator car is on the main floor in front of me, so I have no choice but to ride it downstairs. My jaw stays tightly clenched the whole time. Each moment waiting for the doors to open is a moment of movement wasted.

Finally, the elevator arrives and I step out into the wards. I ignore the guards' surprise as I run down one hallway after another towards the assigned cell of Harvey Dent. Walls of reinforced Plexiglas separate me from the patients confined in their cells. My vision is nearly tunneled, I barely notice the reactions of the patients within.

Finally, I round a corner, widen my feet and slide to a stop. I see a guard going into Two-Face's cell. A handful of bounding steps later and I'm behind him, just outside the cell door in the hall. "Sto—" I get out before I notice that the guard is alone.

He turns quickly from picking up a few things Dent left behind. "Batman!" I stand unmoving as he overcomes himself. "What are you doing here?"

The question snaps me back to my surroundings. I step into the cell and grab the guard's collar. "Where's Dent?"

The man's hands come to my wrists and he tries to free himself. "Batman, what do you think you're—"

"Where is he?" I demand angrily.

I nearly turn the guard to slam him into the wall when he finally answers, "A couple of uniforms just collected him for a court date tomorrow morning." I nearly curse under my breath as I drop the man and turn back towards the hallway. "Hey! What was all that for?"

I ignore the guard as I head back along the same route towards the elevator. They must have taken another route to avoid me. _'How do they know I'm here?'_ A guard from upstairs must have called down here while I was in the elevator. Penguin's men must have talked their way past those in the wards.

I get to the elevator and find myself more than a step behind them. The elevator is already at the top floor. I dash forward, pressing the call button as the guards around me try to ask about my apparent distress. I respond by ignoring them, but as the elevator comes back down, those that get closer back away at the sight of the silent fury on my expression.

The elevator ride up is a grueling wait. I look around myself when I disembark. If Penguin's fake officers heard about my arrival from the guards at the security desk in the lobby, then they wouldn't try to pass by them on their way out. That leaves them no choice but to exit through a maintenance entrance, leaving me with a time advantage going out the front door. If I'm lucky, it'll be enough to make up for the time wasted in the elevator.

My explosive return to the lobby turns all heads towards me. "Did you find him, Batman?" one guard asks. I scowl in reply, it's enough of an answer for the man's curiosity, but it's really a reaction to my own thoughts. I was right. I have to hurry or I'll lose them in the parking lot.

As I push open the asylum's front doors, the false GCPD transport speeds around from the right corner of the building and barrels across the parking lot towards the end of the access road. I come to a stop at the edge of the front landing, flipping the control panel on my utility belt down to access its controls.

My fingers deftly navigate the tactile buttons until I find the detonator for the explosives I planted. At the same time with my left hand, I grab the edge of my cape and prepare to wrap it around myself to dampen the anticipated concussive blast. I flip the detonator switch and the scowl on my face drops away. Desperation mars my expression as the truck continues to speed off.

My surprise and shock stall me for another moment until I swear under my breath. _'It must already be out of range!'_

I begin a mad dash following after the escaping vehicle. When I'm close enough to the trees, I again use my grapnel to try narrowing the gap between me and my quarry, even as with every other moment, that gap widens further. I hope against hope that the Batmobile will stop them, but I can't relax, can't let myself rely solely on the static machine.

Far ahead of me, I can still see the transport. It's close enough to the Batmobile and the arch above it that I can see them around the moving vehicle. They never put on their brakes. I begin to worry about cleaning up after a collision, but at the last second, the truck swerves left, crossing the median and nearly passing untouched between the archway and the trees near the edge of the road.

A moment after passing the front of the Batmobile, the transport's front passenger side smashes into the support column. Chunks of mortar and stone fly out in all directions, but the truck doesn't stop. Its driver turns towards the trees before the column can break through the windshield, but then swerves back to avoid a tree. The second swerve back towards the road drives the rear of the truck into the remnants of the column, further destabilizing it and sending the iron arch crashing down on top of my car.

All I can do as the truck gets back onto the road and drives away is keep running. When I finally reach the Batmobile, I scramble up onto its roof. I waste no time, moving everything I can out of the way, throwing and sweeping stones and hunks of mortar off the vehicle's roof with my hands and feet.

Finally, I'm left with dust, debris too small to worry about, and the metal sign. Much of the stone from the tops of the columns is still attached, but I still drop down to the pavement on the driver's side of the car and brace myself to try. It takes everything I have to drag the ruined sign across the Batmobile's roof, but it finally falls away.

It's off—that's all I care about—so, I quickly open the canopy and climb into the driver's seat. In mere moments, the engine is going and I cut the wheel. With a short, hard press of the accelerator, the Batmobile spins back and to my left, turning towards Gotham. A quick gear change later, I'm on the road.

I've lost too much time. I've made too many mistakes. I have to hurry. I have to be careful, or my mistakes will all come back to haunt me. It won't be just me that will pay. _'Harvey…'_ In this moment, I don't care about Two-Face, I don't care about Batman. I failed Harvey once and Two-Face was born. _'No! I won't fail him again!'_ My hand leaves the steering wheel, returning to the gear shifter. My index finger wraps over the primer and I squeeze my thumb against the afterburner.

Tongues of flame erupt from the exhaust at the rear of the Batmobile before the system fully activates. With a scream, the afterburner fires in earnest. I feel myself pressed deeper into the seat behind me under the new, sudden force. The speedometer's needle shoots across my dashboard as I make the most of the long, empty roads between me and the city.

"Alfred!" I exclaim after switching on the communication system. My elder butler's face appears on screen, but I don't give him time to reply. "There's a truck ahead of me on the way back into Gotham. It's a fake GCPD transport—track it!"

"Of course, sir." His tone is like a calm breeze against the storm of emotions wracking my mind. He turns to the controls below his fingertips and seconds later, his image disappears, replaced by a street map of Gotham, clearly centered over me and the Batmobile. "Pinning it to your map now."

A flashing blip appears on the map, already nearly at the edge of the city proper. My jaw drops during my momentary glance. I look back to the road and concentrate on my driving, determined to let nothing get in my way from here onward.

Finally, I reach Gotham and slow considerably to more safely navigate the streets. I glance back towards the target blip on my map. A sense of relief begins to wash over me, but I stamp it back down. I'm closer, but I have a lot further to go.

My mind immediately sets about plotting my path to intercept the truck. I make a sharp turn, leaving another hook on another streetlamp after I round the corner. After passing through each intersection, after each turn, I glance at the map, adjusting my route to better catch the runaway vehicle.

At last, I turn right and slow almost to a stop. I wait nearly a half minute, watching the map the whole time, then press the accelerator almost into the floor. The driving wheels spin in place for a moment before catching against the pavement. I rocket across the block and into the intersection, just as the transport comes into view.

I brace myself for the impact as I slam on the brakes and turn at the last moment, steering the front passenger side of the Batmobile into the front driver's side of the transport. When the dust settles, I open the canopy and leap up onto the Batmobile's hood. I'm still a little unsure of myself, but the need to act is too compelling to ignore or leave waiting while my balance tries to repair itself.

I immediately see that the edge of the truck's crumpled hood smashed the windshield. I grasp the brace running up to the cabin's roof with my right hand and punch through the remaining glass with my left. I sweep my gauntlet through the glass to widen the hole, then grab hold of the driver by his collar and pull him out. I slide him down the hood and he falls to the pavement between the two vehicles' bumpers, groaning in pain all the way.

I then look to the passenger side and see the man there opening his door. I jump down and make my way quickly around the front of the truck, meeting the man at the door just after his feet touch asphalt. I grab hold of the false cop and throw him to the ground. I pull out a pair of Batcuffs and quickly restrain the man. I see the other man at the front of the truck begin rising and pull out a tethered batarang. With a speedy throw, the line is wrapped securely around him.

I feel myself returning more fully to my senses as I more securely restrain the two men, leaving them bound to a small loop in their truck's front bumper. With more confidence, I make my way to the back of the truck. I reach up past my head to grab the handles of the rear doors and pull them down. As soon as they begin moving, gunfire erupts from within the truck, bullets drilling holes in both doors above the handles.

The noise, more than anything, shocks me the rest of the way back to my senses and I drop down into a crouch. I curse myself for forgetting about the third "officer" and move around to the side of the truck. After a few minutes of silence, the doors open from the inside. The gap between them widens and I see a gun and a bare hand poke out.

I rush around the corner, reaching up with both hands and pulling the gun out of the man's hand while I wrap my other hand around his wrist. I throw the gun away, sending it skidding towards the Batmobile as I pull the man out of the truck, sending him crashing to the pavement by my feet. He tries to scramble to his feet and escape, but I wrap my arms around him in a sleeper hold and wait patiently for him to pass out.

Free of threats for the moment, I restrain the third false officer and attach him to the rear bumper of the truck. I then turn my attention to the rear doors. I can see through them inside. I see a body lying on the floor. I hastily open the right-hand door and am greeted by the sight of Harvey Dent, face down, unconscious, and restrained in a straightjacket.

I hop inside and touch my fingers to the unburnt side his neck. Finally, the tension begins to drain from me. He's still alive. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief, then reach for the sleeves in the back of the straightjacket near the small of Dent's back.

I drag Harvey out of the truck and jump down with him in tow. "I can't leave him here…" I glance around, then spot an abandoned building and get my grapnel. I shoot through a third story window and then check to make sure the line is secure. I retract the line, bringing myself and my capture into the large room on the other side of the window.

I take a quick look around the room and then return to the window, satisfied that Harvey won't be going anywhere. There's nothing here that he'll be able to use to free himself. Finally finished rescuing Harvey, I change tracks, shooting my grapnel towards the skyline and heading for the Iceberg Lounge and the cause of my problems on this night, Penguin.

"Robin, Batgirl, status?" I ask when I'm a few blocks from the nightclub.

"Batman! What happened?" Robin responds quickly.

"Dent is safe." I jump into the air once more. "Penguin. Now."

Barbara answers me. "I've got a good line of sight on his office. He's still at his desk waiting for his goons and Harvey to arrive." There's a momentary pause. "Someone just came into his office. He's standing up now. Ohh, he looks mad. He must know about Two-Face."

"It doesn't matter," I reply. "Batgirl, contact Gordon, let him know what happened. Keep an eye on the exits. _I'm_ taking Penguin down."

"Got it," Barbara replies.

"You sure you want to handle this alone, Batman?" Robin asks a moment later.

"Yes," I answer simply. The Iceberg Lounge comes into view as I glide past another building.

I pull my grapnel up and fire it in midair, using it to lift myself to a rooftop before I can pass it by. I walk slowly to the edge of the roof facing the nightclub and take a few moments to calm myself further, prepare my mind for the fight I'm sure lies ahead of me.

Ready at last, I take hold of the leading edges of my cape and leap into the air. I come to a stop in a gentle landing just above Penguin's office window. I look down over the edge of the roof and turn on the thermal sensors in my cowl, looking down into the room below. Four targets. The largest is most likely Penguin.

I pull another batarang and a length of line from my belt and make a hook of sorts, tying it around an exposed pipe. Satisfied, I take hold of the line and run towards the edge of the roof directly above Penguin's window. I leap into the air, my line slipping through my fingers before I finally secure my grip.

I turn over in the air, looking back towards the window as I aim my boots towards the glass. I begin dropping out of the air, swinging back towards the side of the building. My feet smash through the glass and it falls mostly away before my face passes through. I fall into a quick tumbling roll before I can get onto my feet and lunge towards the nearest person, a man near the door.

I collide with him, pushing him back until he slams into the wall. He drops and I turn around. The Penguin himself and two women wearing black bunnygirl suits and black top hats are all that's left. "Batman!" Cobblepot shouts. "Stop him, stop him!"

I turn to the two women as they begin running across the office towards me. They're empty-handed. The first to reach me throws a punch. I catch it between my hands and pull her closer, throwing her back and to my left just in time to catch a kick from the other woman. I kick out her other knee and she drops to her back on the floor.

Her partner jumps on my back before I can turn, wrapping her arms around my neck and forehead, pulling my head back as she leans away, trying to unbalance me and send me crashing to the floor. I manage to react quickly enough, reaching up and back just barely far enough to grasp her shoulders. I pull her up and over my head, at the same time leaning forward as I begin to throw her towards the second guard, still recovering on the floor ahead of me.

Momentarily empty-handed myself, I dart my right hand down to my belt, fetching a few pellets filled with knockout gas. I throw one to the floor beside the two sprawled-out women's heads, the second I throw a moment later towards Penguin. He lifts his umbrella from behind his desk and quickly opens it. My gas pellet bounces off, beginning to discharge its payload uselessly as it lands in front of his desk on the floor.

I scowl and dive to my left on a gut feeling. It's just in time, a loud bang fills the room and buckshot from the umbrella shotgun flies through the air where I was to pepper the door and the wall around it. Penguin closes his umbrella and lifts it away to survey the damage. He sees me on the floor unharmed and begins leveling the weapon back towards me.

With desperation, I throw a batarang at Penguin's gun. It impacts moments before he can level it at me and goes off into the ceiling. Penguin lets out a cry of mixed frustration and surprise while I begin scrambling to my feet. I leap towards the desk, landing both hands against the wooden surface and swinging my feet around at the rotund man's side.

The blow knocks the wind from the man's lungs and bowls him over. He lands on his side beside the desk, his signature weapon spinning across the floor and into the corner of the room. I hold myself up with my right knee while lowering my other foot to the floor, then walk briskly, silently toward Penguin before he can crawl away.

I restrain the man with another pair of Batcuffs, then lift a hand to my cowl. "It's done," I tell the young man and woman fighting outside. I then grasp one of Penguin's wrists and drag him to the window. He comes to just in time to see me open the window properly and turn back to him.

"No! You can't!"

"Watch me." I grab him again, then turn back towards the open window and fire my grapnel outside. It catches on a building across the street and with its help, I pull myself and Penguin out into the night air.

We fall faster than I'm used to with many thanks to his extra weight, landing in the alley beside the Iceberg Lounge. Penguin refuses to shut up the whole way, sometimes shouting in fear, sometimes leveling weightless threats at me for my treatment of him. Of course, I exercise my freedom to ignore every complaint that comes out of his mouth.

When we're both down in the alleyway, I roll the restrained man onto his back and lift him into a sitting position. "You have a choice. I'm either going to drag you to Gordon's men or you can walk on your own two feet."

He picks walking, so I lift him to his feet and turn him towards the end of the alley. He starts with hesitation, only really moving when I start pushing him forward. Finally, we get to the end of the alley. We step out onto the street and I look towards the entrance to the nightclub and see Robin and Batgirl fighting a number of Penguin's goons by the front door and in the street.

Gordon and his officers haven't arrived yet, so I trip my capture, sweeping his feet out from under him and sending him shouting back to the pavement. As I hoped, his men turn at the sound of their boss's shout. They stop at the sight of him restrained and laid out on the ground. I lift my right hand from my side, leveling my forearm, turning my hand palm up, and closing it dramatically into a tight fist.

The simple visual threat cows the men and a few of them raise their hands in surrender. Others look around at their comrades, then look back to me before doing the same. As the last of them raise their hands in defeat, Gordon and the police finally arrive.

"Batman!" Jim Gordon calls while jogging towards me, two officers in tow to take care of Penguin. "I heard that you had a present for me."

"Kidnapping and conspiracy to commit murder, to say the least. Sorry, Jim, no time to talk. I have to go collect your prime witness."

"Who?" Jim asks as I turn towards Batgirl and Robin.

"Two-Face," I answer. I wait until I am closer to my young allies. "You two make sure nothing happens here, then get back on patrol. I'll handle Dent. I'll let you know when I'm done."

Both reply in acknowledgement as I take to the air again. I swing and glide back towards the crashed Batmobile, arriving after a short while to an empty street corner. It's a little surprising that no one is out looking around, but with three men bound to a truck and the Batmobile next to it, I guess I can understand their hesitance.

I glide down from a nearby building, aiming for the ledge of the window I brought Harvey in through. I land with one foot and my other knee on the sill, my right hand on the side of the frame. I step inside and see Harvey awake, on his back and staring up at the ceiling. He doesn't pay me any attention until I'm nearly beside him.

"I take it I have you thank for all this." I nod in reply to the normal, gravelly tone of Two-Face. "And now you're going to take me back to Arkham." I nod again. He laughs. It's short, but loud. When he calms, he finally turns his head towards me. "You know, Batman, I had a bit of time to think while you were out taking care of whoever kidnapped me…flipped on a few options…"

I furrow my brow. _'Flipped?'_ His coin? _'But he's…'_ I keep my focus locked on his face, on his eyes, on the grin on his lips. It hits me and I lean down, grab hold of him forcefully. Just as I begin to lift my former friend, the door on the other side of the room bursts open and an even dozen men pour into the room, wielding all-range of melee weapons—bats, chains, clubs, pipes, knives, a fireman's axe, and even a couple billy clubs.

"Get him!" Two-Face bellows from within my grasp.

I drop Dent, step over him, and charge the approaching mob. One of the two men brandishing clubs moves in to strike from my left. I catch the flailing cudgel and pull the lackey in towards me with a yank, planting my knee in his gut and letting him drop to the floor. Another man holding a butterfly knife closes in while the others enclose and then begin orbiting around us in varying directions and speeds.

I catch the knife-wielding hand on the first thrust and squeeze the man's finger's behind his first set of knuckles. He howls in pain and the knife drops to the floor as I reach down with my free hand to grab him by the belt. With his wrist in one hand and belt in the other, I lift the man up over my head and throw him forward, two of the dichotomous criminal's goons dodge, but a third is struck in the chest by my heavy thrown weapon.

I rush for the gap my impulsive toss created, looking to get out of this dangerous circle, when something slams into me from behind. I feel something cross in front of my left shin and hands grasp my shoulders as a great weight starts tipping me over forwards. I keep thinking about my hands, lifting them to break my fall, but the surprise from being struck leaves them limp at my sides. My chest slams into the wooden floor. I barely turn my head enough to keep from smashing my nose in the fall.

The landing disorients me, but I'm still aware enough to recognize the cacophonous laughter over me as Two-Face's. "Cuff him, boys!" he orders as I feel numerous hands gripping my limbs to keep me still. My anger boils as I feel the handcuffs close around my wrists.

Dent climbs off my back, grabbing my shoulder in one hand and the handcuffs binding me in the other. He pulls both, flipping me onto my back and pulling my hands out from under me towards my right. I feel the toe of his shoe against my right side and he drops his heel down between my wrists, keeping my hands still and freeing his own. I crane my neck around to look, watch him stand up triumphantly. I try to pull my hands back behind myself, but Dent's foot and leg keep me from pulling them in.

"Yeah, that's it… Struggle!" Two-Face chuckles. He lifts his gaze to one of his henchmen, beckons him over.

My eyes follow his pointing finger across the room as one of the men lifts a large canister from the corner of the room. _'I need time. I have to stall him, find a way out of this.'_ The goon approaches, hands the canister to his boss, who sets it down beside my head before crouching back down onto one knee beside me.

"How did you get out of your restraints?" I ask.

I can't help but be worried by the knowing smirk that crosses his lips, one made uglier by the marred side of his face. "You forget where we are, Batman? This was once my part of town! A few of my boys saw you drag me up here. I came to just as they busted the door in."

He chuckles again. "I'll give you a second freebie, Batman, but otherwise, aren't you interested in this little jug here?" He pats the canister as if it were a faithful dog.

"Fine. Why didn't you just escape?"

"And ruin this chance? I been ready a long time for this day, Batman. This little gem's been ready for you for years, but I've never had a good opportunity to use it. Whenever we cross paths, it's always on your terms—even when I double down on precautions!"

He lets a low laugh slip from his throat. "You know, Batman, one day, I got to thinking… You and me, we go way back, don't we? You were there the day I was born. It's your fault I burned!"

I feel the words in the back of my mind. They spill past before I can think to stop myself. "I saved your life, Harvey! You would have been shot and killed! The explosion was an accident, a horrible accident."

"_And this is somehow better_?" he furiously demands, reaching down with his right hand and wrapping it around my throat.

I do my best to tighten the muscles in my neck, provide as much resistance as possible. I don't know if it works or not, but a moment later, he lets go. I put my hands back to work, crossing them behind his heel, trying to reach the emergency tools hidden in the Batsuit's wrists.

_'I need to keep his attention off whatever is in that canister…'_ A cough forces its way up from my lungs. "You and I both know this dark side has always been a part of you, Harvey…"

Rage floods his expression. His eyes nearly bug out and he bares his teeth for a long moment. In a flash, it falls away, all the anger gone. A sense nearly of glee swiftly replaces it. "Sure, sure. I guess there's always two sides to every story. Isn't that right, Batman?"

He doesn't wait for me to answer. "That's the beauty of it, isn't it? You've always lived your side of _my_ story." He turns to the canister, holds it steady with one hand. He pulls something on the top of the canister and I hear it pop. He unscrews a small cap and throws it aside. Immediately, a pungent smell a lot like vinegar assaults my senses.

My eyes widen beneath the mask. _'Acid!'_ My heart rate picks up, but then everything seems to slow. I feel each thump from deep within my chest. I see Harvey's hands move, one to a handle on the top of the canister, the other to the bottom edge as he tips it towards me. I see the nozzle he had popped up.

Just when I think he's about to start pouring, he lifts it up, moves it down towards my waist. He turns it, tips it back up towards my head. My vision blurs as he begins sweeping it back up towards my face, keeping the canister suspended dangerously above me.

My mind leaves this time, this place. A single, specific memory takes over my thoughts, my senses. I see myself in a similar predicament, with Two-Face pouring acid over my face. The pain rushes through me. It's horrible, but familiar—part of the memory of the dream.

I see myself rising, leaving Two-Face dead before retreating to the Batcave. I see myself return to the night later, being given a new name by the next person I would kill. _'Two-Bat…'_

I feel a sense of anger, of defeat. _'This is it, this is what those dreams, Apollo's visions warned me about. I've seen this, lived this already. Now it's going to happen. I'm going to lose myself here, now. I'm going to lose…Diana…'_

The thought sends my mind back again, but to a much more recent, waking memory. Diana's words echo in my mind, _'If Apollo means to challenge us, Bruce, I intend to meet his challenges head-on. I have faith in you, I have faith in our friends, and I have faith in our allies. Whatever happens, we will not fall.'_

The words repeat themselves again and again in my mind. _'...I have faith in you…we will not fall…'_ My anger overwhelms my sense of defeat. _'Everything I've fought for…all the efforts I've made, the sacrifices…'_ My mind goes back to my last memory of my parents, to that dark June night in Crime Alley. _'I won't become a part of the plague!'_

My vision focuses, centered on Dent's face. The world seems to pick up its pace, time returning to normal. "Time for you to understand _my_ side of things, Batman…"

"_No!_" I shout at nearly the top of my lungs. I pull at Harvey's heel, turning my shoulders away while lifting my legs from the floor. I curl myself as much as possible and kick towards the canister. Against all hope, a last ditch effort of desperation.

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**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.

Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd have this ready in time and I was especially afraid of promising it after only a week and then letting it fall through.**  
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	7. Assurance

**Author's Note:** If you feel the need, feel free to skip to the next line of dialogue. You'll know when you get there. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

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I pause, the fuzziness in my head slowly clearing. Hoping to speed it along, I lift a hand to my head, work my fingers into my long dark hair, and rub my palm against my temple. I wait until I'm sure it's working before I drop my hand back to my side, open my eyes, and look ahead. "...What is it, Bruce?"

His chest visibly expands as he takes a deep breath. He averts his gaze and holds his breath long enough for me to take two of my own. The silence holds heavy between the two of us, broken only by Bruce's breath when he can hold it no longer and begins to slowly, gradually exhale through his nose.

I feel a sense of impatience, a sense of unease. I take the opportunity to make the most of the joyous air that's still between us and act before anything can break it, reaching for Bruce's hands and pulling them behind my back. He finally looks back to me. Meanwhile, his hands come together on my lower back in what seems so fluid, so quick a movement that it may have been a natural reflex. I give an amused chuckle, nearly a giddy giggle as I snake my arms under his and wrap them around him.

I still my arms, my hands keeping Bruce and I together as I lift us into the air. "Whoa—Diana!" Bruce exclaims with surprise as first my toes and then his leave the balcony of his bedroom in Wayne Manor.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Wayne?" I jest in a low, sultry voice before more laughter can escape me.

He smirks and, even as we continue to rise higher and higher into the cloudless Gotham night sky, both of his hands leave my back. His left I feel on my waist, rising slowly as his right comes around towards my face. "As a matter of fact, Princess, there is…"

"Oh? Perhaps I can help," I nearly whisper just before the side of his index finger touches the edge of my jaw.

"Perhaps…" He slowly runs his finger towards the tip of my chin. "I seem to have the most _vexing_ little itch on my lip." It amazes me that even with me lifting him into the air, his face is still just high enough above mine that he must lift my chin to bring our lips together.

Both of his hands cup my chin as he presses his lips to mine. I kiss back, but I feel him pushing my head back, my neck bending for him as we keep our lips locked in passion. For a few long moments, I forget myself against Bruce's lips.

His intensity tapers off slowly. Before our lips can fall anywhere near still against one another, he abruptly pulls away. He slowly glides his hands down to the tops of my bare shoulders. He closes his lips and looks up and to the right. "Hmm…" He looks back to me. "That was nice, but I don't think that itch is _quite_ gone yet…"

For the most part, I miss his words. The lull in passion lets me get my thoughts back and I remember my station in life as Princess of the Amazons. I see him tipping his head to come back and kiss me again. I turn the situation around quickly, going after Bruce's lips with my own, pushing his head back as we begin dropping out of the air.

Before it's too late to stop, I slow our controlled fall and gently lower Bruce onto his back on the sloped roof above his bedroom. He adjusts quickly to having a solid surface behind him, even resting the back of his head against the shingles. Meanwhile, I near enough assault his lips with a loving passion.

I notice his hands on my sides as they begin to move. They take the easy route, his arms extending, his hands roaming downward toward my hips. I pause to nearly grin, letting him regain some ground in our kiss before I move my left knee, planting it between his legs and steadying myself with the toes of my shoes. At the same time, I move my own hands to match Bruce's.

I give a little hum of appreciation when his hands come off the sides of my hips, settling for the shortest of moments on my rear before he begins to gently caress me. Before my breath runs dry, he gives me an abrupt, hard squeeze with both hands at once. My relaxed hum quickly gives way to a moan of equal parts surprise, protest, and desire.

I recover quickly and move my own hands the rest of the way to Bruce's rear and reply in kind. His groan of protest is as amusing as it is satisfying to hear and I know I've gotten the appropriate message across: _'I'm still stronger.'_

His hands relax quickly and, with the lesson learned, I follow suit. I bring my hands up towards his sides, just under his arms, and then lift myself up over him on my elbows. We share a few moments of blissful silence, our gazes locked and joyous smiles plastered across our lips.

I'm just about to profess my love for him when I see a small twitch in his perfectly open expression. The smile falls away from my expression. "What is it, Bruce?" I ask with undisguised trepidation.

The corners of his mouth draw upwards, forming a sincere, gentle, almost apologetic smile. It lasts for only a second, then they fall back down, his lips drawing out into a thin, neutral line. Worry wells in my gut as his face becomes the more distant Batman of yesteryear, rather than my guarded yet trusting and loving Bruce. His lips begin to part as he tries to form words. I can see the hesitation and I feel a growing tightness where the worry once was.

"…I'm done." My eyes slowly widen. I try to swallow after a moment of silence, but my throat is scratchy and dry. I nearly cough.

"What?" I manage to ask in a squeak of a whisper.

"It's time, Diana." The seriousness on his expression. I don't want to believe what he's saying—I can't believe it.

My grip on Bruce's ribs tightens—though unintentionally—in line with the still-growing, sickening tightness in my stomach. I don't know whether or not Bruce can read my distress, but his own face is nearly unreadable.

_'Why aren't you saying anything? Explain yourself! Tell me I'm mistaken—tell me something! Don't you know everything that our relationship means to me? By Hera, Bruce, why?'_ The words run through my head in the middle of a flood of similar thoughts. None of it reaches my voice.

The tightness within me seems to spread, constricting my lungs. I cannot breathe. I close my eyes as the tightness crests and is quickly replaced by pain in my chest. I lean back down, letting my forehead slam into Bruce's chest as I pull my hands from his sides and grasp at my heart.

_'Why, Bruce? Why would you ever want us to end?'_ My lungs demand appeasement and I lean back, opening my mouth to take a big gulp of air. I struggle to draw air and once my mouth is again closed, I quickly lean back down, aiming for the comforting support even his silent self seems to be giving me.

I barely have time to notice I'm leaning farther than the last time before my forehead collides violently with the roof. Shock and this new pain override everything else in my mind and my heart. I lean quickly back and open my eyes. Bruce is gone.

_'What? No! No, that's impossible! He can't have just vanished! Not even he could have gotten away from me so quickly and quietly!'_ My hands leave my chest. I search the roof below me with my hands, searching for what my eyes and my head say is missing.

My heart sinks as it's proven wrong. I finally find my voice. "Bruce!" I call, turning around. I lift myself into the air and away from the manor. I look down, over the bluff on which Wayne Manor stands. I can see nothing in the water crashing into the sheer cliff. The hidden door to the Batcave is still sealed shut.

I turn back to the generations-old mansion and scan its roofs as I fly around over it. I feel something of a tap on my right shoulder and turn around. There's no one there and I can't help but wonder why I thought there ever would have been. I feel it again, this time on my left cheek and look up. Clouds. It's going to rain.

I quickly snap out of my momentary daze, turning back to Wayne Manor. My breath catches for a moment and I feel a sense of hope. I nearly fall out of the air, speeding over the manor on my way to the front door, what seems to be the only source of light nearby.

I soon see that it's the outside lights for the front door and the landing. They must have just come on, I didn't see them on before. Someone had to be there to flip the light switches. Hopefully it was Bruce, but even if it was Alfred or Tim, one of them may know where Bruce is.

I land at the door and reach for the doorknob. The instant my hand touches it, the lights go out. Immediately after, I find myself fighting a locked door. My hand goes to my pants pocket. I hadn't expected to need my key, but I can't help thanking Mnemosyne for remembering to keep it with me when I changed after coming home from the Watchtower.

In a moment, the door is open. I'm in too much of a hurry to make sure it's really closed. I look down every hallway in the eerily dark manor, looking for signs of Bruce, of whoever turned on the light, or whoever turned it off. Finally, my eyes pass over the hallway to the front living room and I see movement at the far end.

I take to the air, flying quickly across the foyer and down the hall. Soon, the hallway's walls open up, giving way to the living room. I see a figure standing below the large windows. Despite the windows' enormous size, there is almost no light. I can hear yet barely see why. Rain. A torrential downpour.

The only thing I can see as I set my feet on the floor in the center of the living room is a silhouette. As I begin to slowly approach, I notice the outline of a cape. I think I can see a tall, narrow ear. _'Bruce!'_

I begin running up the half flight of stairs toward where he is standing. I nearly call his name when a flash of lightning bathes the room in a purplish hue. The light fades, but more slowly than it should. The intense, concentrated bolt of brightness evens and diffuses before it vanishes, like the ripple of a raindrop falling in a puddle.

I stop abruptly. I stand motionless before the figure below the window. Shocked. Horrified. It's Bruce, just as I had thought. He is dressed from head to toe as the Batman, but the suit is in pieces. The flash of lightning gives me all I need to see, the image imprinted on my mind.

What I thought was a whole cape is only half so, the left side in tatters. It hangs pathetically from his left shoulder and maybe from behind his neck. The suit is largely intact, but the front and top of his left shoulder are gone, the edge around it is a mix of uneven patches and small holes. Shreds of fabric hang loosely from the tattered edge, evidence his shoulder was ever covered.

The suit's neck has all but vanished, only one wide strip of high-weave fabric connects the cowl's hood and cape. The hood itself is in the worst condition. A little less than half of it is missing. Again, it's the left side, but in the hood's case, some of the missing fabric is still present, thinned and melted as though someone had boiled tar and left it to cool. The left ear is simply gone.

Even in light of the suit, Bruce himself is the true vision of horror. Nearly all of the skin I can see is black, as if it's been severely charred. Even that is merely an outline. Within each dark ring is an open lesion, wounds so deep that the lightning gave me small glimpses of what could only be bone.

A ring of darkness runs across the front of his neck, right next to his esophagus on his left side. The skin past it on his left is an angry mix of colors, mottled red and a dark shade of purple. Again, his face is worst of all. I can't see his left ear. I can see his teeth and part of his lower jaw. His left cheek is more gone than there.

The dark ring on the edge of his face's burns run out from under the edge of the cowl on the bridge of his nose. It does a poor job of tracing down the right side of his nose before it splits his lips in two and runs over his chin to meet with the line on his neck. More of his forehead is exposed, both literally and because some of his hair is missing, the follicles and the surrounding skin burned away.

Still, what seems the most harrowing is his left eye. The electronics suite between his lenses are the only thing that kept some of the cowl in place over his nose. The equipment in the cowl's left lens has melted, fused together into a single mass that then grafted itself to the eye below. The eye is no doubt ruined, but the melted lens assembly may have been the only thing protecting Bruce's brain.

"Bruce…" I mutter, barely loud enough for me to know I've spoken. I begin lifting my hands towards him. My legs are grounded, heavy beyond belief. I struggle, straining to move so I can reach the still figure.

Finally, my left foot begins to move. With great effort, it lifts and I take a step forward. I'm gaining momentum, or so it seems as my right foot moves almost readily. I get two steps closer, blinking as my right foot reaches the edge of the landing, only a few feet from him.

"Bruce!" I yell as I open my eyes, but again I stop cold.

I'm laid out on my back, sandwiched between soft layers of satin. My arms are extended into the air. I recognize the setting immediately. I'm in my bedroom in Wayne Manor. After a long moment, I lower my hands to my face, covering it as best I can and then slowly rubbing.

_'A dream…right? No. No, if nothing else, a nightmare…'_ Another thought strikes me and in a flash I'm on my feet and heading for the hallway. I nearly reach the door before I remember my nudity and quickly turn for my bureau. I get the first drawer open and almost start selecting clothes. I stop, close the drawer, and start picking up my armor from atop the bureau.

After quickly dressing, I head out into the hallway, barely remembering to turn off my light or close the door behind myself. I first check Bruce's bedroom, but his bed is still patiently awaiting his arrival. I notice from his windows that it's still nighttime, a discovery as encouraging as it is worrying. While leaving the room, I send a silent prayer to Zeus in hopes that he will not make it rain.

I head downstairs and check for Alfred, but he doesn't seem to be in the manor, either. With no sign of Alfred or Bruce, I head to the study and the cave, hoping that one, if not both of them, will be there. I can't help but notice the time on the grandfather clock as I turn its hands to the fateful time. Nearly 1:00.

To my great relief, before I even reach the bottom of the Batcave's stairs I see Alfred at the Batcomputer. I hop into the air and begin floating towards him. Naturally, he sees my approach, but he's interrupted before he can say anything to me.

"We're done with Penguin. Any word from Batman?" Barbara.

I can see the worry in the old man's face. "No. He crashed the Batmobile and left it in the middle of an intersection. I haven't heard anything since."

I pause in midair. "Send us its location," Barbara answers. Alfred's fingers dance over the keyboard before him and a moment later, Barbara thanks him.

"Good luck," Alfred replies, snapping me out of my daze. I drop out of the air, landing beside him. "Miss Diana—"

"Show me." He hesitates, no doubt Bruce has expressed his wishes to keep me from involving myself in Gotham's underworld. "Alfred, please…" I don't want to add more words, instead putting my arguments in my tone and expression.

Alfred stares at me in silence at first, then finally turns to the Batcomputer again and lifts his hands for its controls. He pauses before pressing even a single key. He closes his eyes and sits stock-still. My patience begins to wear thin, but before I can speak, his eyes open in a flash and he begins his work.

The large screen of the Batcomputer shifts and flickers, data and imagery moving, changing places, and finally giving way to a blinking dot surrounded by a street map. A cursor swoops in from the side and draws a small box around the flashing indicator dot. A larger box grows in the corner of the screen, filled immediately with a satellite image.

The Batmobile is instantly recognizable, even half-mangled. I see a ruined truck next to it. Debris from both vehicles is strewn about the pavement. My gaze shifts back to the map and I study it, looking for landmarks. When I'm certain I know where to go, I turn around.

A hand lands on my shoulder and I stop. "Miss Diana!" I turn, begin opening my mouth to tell him not to stop me now, not after showing me where to go. "Be careful. You _mustn't_ advertise your presence beyond what is absolutely necessary. Bruce has always worried that the presence of his allies from the League would undermine his advantage over his adversaries; that they would take him less seriously if they knew he needed outside help."

"Alfred, this isn't the time or place for—"

"It is always a concern. We must not let the short-term's worries overshadow long-term safety." My eyes go wide. I cannot believe that the kind, unassuming Alfred would interrupt me. "Even so, that is not my greatest concern. You are."

"What?"

"You are in a precarious situation, Miss Diana. You must _not_ be Diana and Bruce. You absolutely _must_ be Batman and Wonder Woman. You _cannot_ let slip what truly brought you. If someone makes the connection between Bruce Wayne and Batman by your presence, your relationship will be the least of our problems.

"If something truly has happened to Master Bruce, I have no illusions about it, you will get there faster than any of us. I won't stop you from going, but do not forget my warnings and remember that Batman himself cannot have asked for your help. No matter Master Bruce's personal feelings, _Batman_ will reject your presence."

I reply with a solemn nod and Alfred releases me. It'd be a lie to say I've forgotten about all that it took to get my emotions past the wall of Batman to Bruce behind it. If he's happy to see me, I won't see any of it tonight, not while he's still in the cowl. I begin turning away, but the older man speaks up again, "Miss Diana, do be careful."

"Thanks." I finally turn, leaping into the air and back up the stairs to the study. I quickly close the grandfather clock and fly to the foyer. With the front door closed behind me, I fly straight up, waiting until I'm well above the manor before turning towards Gotham and speeding away.

I fly well above the skyline, looking down with the intent of lining my own view up with that of the map Alfred showed me. I see a whole section of the city lit up by the flashing lights of dozens of police cruisers. It must be where Barbara was. _'She mentioned Penguin, didn't she?'_ I suppose it doesn't matter, I can tell by looking at the area that it isn't where the Batmobile is.

I keep flying and, eventually, I see it. A car stopped nearby near enough highlights it for me. I drop lower and watch as the car backs up, turning around and leaving before bad luck can draw its driver into the situation that caused the crash. I continuously scan the area as I drop lower. I come down on a roof near the intersection and look around.

The neighborhood seems empty. I spot handcuffs of Batman's distinctive design hanging from the front of the truck, but whoever was restrained in them is long gone. Logic tells me that Bruce couldn't still be in the Batmobile if he got out to restrain someone, but I can't help myself from needing to check.

I jump from the roof and before I can even pass the over its edge, I notice shouting. It sounds like an intense fight. I can hear words, but there are too many overlapping voices for me to make anything out. Shouts of pain. A war cry, as though someone were charging a hated enemy.

Immediately I begin searching, but I see no signs of a struggle. I cross the roof again and again, looking around for the source of the sounds, but I can't seem to find anything. The voices begin dying out, shrinking in number. Finally, I realize that the noise is coming from below me.

I turn back towards the intersection where the Batmobile was wrecked and dash to the edge of the roof. Just before I jump, I stop dead in my tracks. "Batman!" A snarl of a shout. Two gunshots in rapid succession. A momentary pause, then a wordless cry of pain, a thud, and an agonized groan.

I jump, twisting back towards the building as I fall straight down. I see a large, broken window and take control of my descent, landing on a relatively clear portion of the windowsill. I see only one figure standing inside, barely more than a dozen bodies scattered across the floor. Standing directly over one of them is Bruce. There's no doubt about it.

I see his chest expanding and contracting rapidly with his accelerated breathing. Before I can say anything, he turns towards me. I see his mouth first, hanging open as he tries to control himself and calm down. I then notice his hands, a pair of silvery handcuffs binding them together at the wrist. Whatever happened here, he prevailed with a serious handicap.

Before I can say anything, he closes his mouth, swallows, and then asks, "Why are you here?" There is no emotion at all in his voice.

My mind goes back before I can answer, not to Alfred's warning, but to the dream that woke me up in the middle of this night. My fists close at my sides as I step down from the sill and into the room. _'I need you to be Bruce, not Batman!'_ I nearly let my emotions get away with me, but manage to remember what Alfred said and close my eyes to keep myself in check.

A story forms itself quickly in my mind. "Your allies were concerned. They requested my assistance. They figured I would be able to reach you faster than they could have."

"As you can see, I'm fine. Go back to Wayne." The reply is immediate and almost unbearably cold. It must be obvious on my expression. "Get some sleep, Princess." These last few words are actually kind, not in any way affectionate enough that anyone but me would pick up on it, but my heart tells me it's enough, not all I need by any stretch, but enough to give me patience.

I let out a sigh of tired frustration before spending a long moment in silence, looking the room over, committing the whole scene and the sight of Bruce himself to memory. Only when I'm ready do I reply, my words carefully chosen. "Don't worry, I was already up. Still, I'm glad you're alright." A little food for thought to leave behind. I'll let him mull it over on his own until he gets back to the manor.

Meanwhile, I turn around and float back into the open air. I fly straight up, my attention below. As I continue to rise, my hand goes to the communicator that, until now, I wasn't quite sure I'd even picked up in my haste to dress. I quickly open a channel to the Batcave. "Alfred?"

"Miss Diana! What did you find?"

"He's fine. There was some sort of fight, but was over before I arrived."

Alfred's relieved sigh comes across the channel. "Thank heavens."

"May I ask a favor?"

"Of course."

"I'm going to keep an eye on things for a while. Could you patch me into your communications system? And if you wouldn't mind keeping this between us. Apparently I'm not welcome here."

There's a moment of silence. "As I anticipated, Miss Diana. I do hope he wasn't terribly blunt about it."

The barest of smiles crosses my lips at the thought of his wish for me to get some sleep. "Well, he could have done worse…" Inevitably the rest of his greeting and dismissal replay in my mind. "…but he could have done a _lot_ better."

"I see. Do you expect to be out much longer?"

"Probably not. His car looked horrible, but it should still be serviceable."

"…I'll ready the tools." Disappointment and resignation. It's kind of amusing to hear. I can't help but smile. I'm sure Bruce won't let him work alone if I ask. "In any case, Miss Diana, you'll be connected in a moment."

I nod automatically and nearly reply aloud when I see Bruce jump out of the broken window. I'm relieved to see that he has regained use of both arms, the handcuffs that bound him probably repurposed for one of the criminals laid out on the floor where I found him. Taking advantage of both arms, he uses his cape to slow his descent and land safely on the sidewalk. He walks slowly to the Batmobile and waits while its canopy struggles against itself to open.

He hops in and almost immediately, I hear his voice through my communicator. "Batgirl, Robin, status."

"Batman!" both reply, nearly in perfect unison.

"What happened? We've been trying to get a hold of you since the cops finished cleaning up the Lounge." Tim. He's concerned. I'm sure they both are, just as I was.

"Two-Face's men saw me leave him here. They freed him while I was gone and set a trap for me." There's a short pause. "It's over. Tell Commissioner Gordon he's going to need more handcuffs. I'll leave the scene to you when you arrive. I have to bring the car to Earl."

"That bad?" Barbara asks with a little hesitation.

Bruce doesn't answer the question. "Who asked for Wonder Woman's help?" I feel the tips of my ears grow warm at his mention.

"Wait, what? Neither of us…" Tim replies with confusion. It sounds like he had more to say, but he simply trails off.

"Hmm. Thought so," is all Bruce says in response.

As I continue to watch, Tim and Barbara reach the intersection. Bruce gets out of the Batmobile and they confer for a few moments. When they finish, Bruce hops back into the Batmobile and I can't stifle my surprise when I see it begin to move. At the same time, Tim and Barbara head up into the apartment building where I found Bruce.

Barbara emerges after a few minutes, firing a grapnel across the street and climbing up onto the roof. She leaves, seemingly to resume her patrol. It isn't much later when a police cruiser arrives. It comes to a stop near the middle of the intersection, parking in the relatively clean spot left by the Batmobile. A portly man and a woman climb out and begin surveying the damage.

As more police cars arrive, I see Tim appear in the broken window. He begins waving and the officers one-by-one begin looking up at the costumed young man. The gathered officers begin rushing towards the building's entrance, filing inside as Tim disappears again.

For a moment, the street is silent, quiet, and still save the police cruisers' lights. Tim's reemergence breaks the calm. He swings out of the window and up to the same roof Barbara had used before another shot from his grapnel starts him on patrol in another direction.

I don't feel a need to watch any longer and turn in the direction Bruce drove. It's certainly not towards the manor. I fly around for a good while, but eventually realize that my search seems fruitless. With a little bit of disappointment, I turn back towards the manor and fly home, letting Alfred know I'm on the way and telling him he doesn't need to keep the channel open for me any longer.

At the end of the slow, easy flight home, I land back by the front door. I unlock the door, walk inside, and relock it in short order. It's a little spiteful, I suppose, but if Bruce is going to make me wait to talk to me normally, then I decide I'm not going to wait up for him to get back. He can wait until morning. With the decision firm in my mind, I head up the stairs to return to my room.

I glance towards Bruce's bedroom door as I pass. A sigh escapes me and I'm not sure if it's more from disappointment in myself for believing he'd be happy to see me or frustration for being denied the chance to talk. Almost immediately after, I hear the door begin to open. "Diana."

I whirl around and find myself face-to-face with Bruce, dressed from head to toe in in a deep blue set of nightclothes. "Bruce!" I'm surprised to see him, I still expected him to be on patrol, but at the same time, I don't know whether I should punch him or kiss him. All the same, I drink in the sight of him, relieved beyond even my own belief that he seems to be unharmed.

I'm still undecided about hitting or kissing him a moment later when he finally speaks. "Diana, I'm sorry. I didn't enjoy treating you so coldly, but I couldn't be sure that all Two-Face's lackeys were unconscious. I couldn't risk it."

A reassuring smile crosses my lips. "I understand, Bruce." A frown quickly replaces the smile. "Not that that makes me like it any more." Bruce gives a tiny groan somewhere between acceptance and disappointment. "What happened?"

"Penguin and Two-Face." I lift my eyebrows and tip my forehead forward and to the right in the silence following his unsatisfactory answer. He gives a defeated sigh, realizing I won't let him get away with saying so little. "Come on…"

He beckons with his left hand, backing up into his bedroom. I follow and he motions to a pair of chairs by the wall of windows. We sit down and he turns, looking out the large windows before beginning the explanation of his night. "Long before the Justice League was formed, Harvey Dent, a.k.a. Two-Face, was a close friend of mine and a prominent district attorney here in Gotham. He was almost fearless. He was like a public Batman that _everyone_ believed in, taking on the criminals I apprehended in court, making sure they ended up behind bars.

"He had a second, darker personality that he kept hidden away. It worked, for the most part, until Harvey tried taking on one of Gotham's organized crime bosses, Rupert Thorne. Thorne found out about Dent's dark side. He kidnapped Harvey and dangled the knowledge in front of his nose in an attempt to keep himself out of jail.

"I intervened, helped Harvey fight Thorne and his men. I saved him from being shot from behind, but I caused the explosion that disfigured him. After the explosion, Dent adopted the Two-Face identity, his darker personality taking over.

"It was only a short while before the League formed that Harvey developed a third personality. It called itself Judge and centered itself on a twisted sense of justice. He was so separate a personality that neither Judge nor Two-Face knew they were one in the same. He even tried to kill himself, would have if I hadn't gone looking for Two-Face.

"Before that, Judge tried to kill Penguin, left him for dead under a statue. I thought that Penguin would have found out about Dent being Judge while he was hospitalized, but it seems the news didn't reach him until I apprehended Two-Face last week. Penguin set up a plan to abduct Two-Face from within Arkham Asylum and bring him to the Iceberg Lounge, Penguin's base of operations.

"I managed to save Two-Face and then I went after Penguin. When I was done with him, I went back for Two-Face, only to find that he had been freed and had laid a trap for me." He pauses, hesitating for the first time since the story began. "You found me at the end of the fight."

"What did he try to do?"

Bruce raises his hand absently, covering the left side of his face. "He tried to make me like him. He had a canister of acid." His voice is low, quiet and with a mixed sense of fear and relief. "It's only by sheer luck that I'm still whole…" He finally turns back to me from the window. "I nearly lived out one of my dreams."

My eyes go wide. For a few moments, I catch on the word "dreams" and think that he means my dream, the one I haven't even told him about yet. Before I can speak, I remember him telling me about his own dream. It doesn't take long before I start thinking that his dream and mine were all based around the same event.

I close my eyes in a slow blink. "Mine, too."

"What?" Bruce asks as I open my eyes again.

"I told you I was already awake before I left you in that apartment," I begin. He nods. "I woke up about an hour ago now. I had a horrible, horrible dream. We were here, on your balcony, then the roof. You disappeared on me and I searched the manor for you.

"I finally found you in the living room." My eyes close again, practically of their own accord. I'm treated with the image of Bruce on the landing. "Your outfit was halfway ruined. Your face, neck, and the area around your left shoulder were…burned, disfigured. Probably thanks to that acid Two-Face had."

We both sit in silence for a few moments. I surprise myself a little when I'm the one who breaks it. "Bruce, I…" I give a brief pause and just like that, the thought is gone.

"What is it, Diana?" I look up to Bruce, see the curiosity and concern on his face.

_'All that he's been through tonight and he's still worried about me…'_ I smile again. "It's nothing, Bruce, don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're unharmed."

He gives a smirk, looks over his right shoulder. "Not entirely."

"What?"

He rises from his chair instead of answering me with words. I follow him, growing more curious when he leads me into his bathroom. I see something on the floor in the shower as we approach. He opens the glass door and I realize that it's his Batsuit, laying in a heap on the floor.

I turn back to him just as he turns around and goes to the sink, reaching for something on the counter. He turns back to me and shows me the hood from his Batsuit. I manage to keep from voicing my surprise that the cowl's cape and hood are detachable as he begins to explain.

Bruce puts his left hand into the hood. "I got in a good kick and knocked Two-Face's canister away. It didn't stop the acid from pouring out, but I managed to avoid all but a few large splashes. As you can see, some of it ate through the ear with my cowl's communication suite."

I reach out, touch the stub that's all that remains of the missing ear and give thanks to Tyche that this is as close as the acid came to his head. "More got my right shoulder, too. It burned a hole in the top of my cape. I noticed it when I dropped the Batmobile off for repairs. We managed to clean most of it off, but I'm pretty sure enough soaked through to give me a superficial burn on my shoulder. After a back and forth to the Watchtower to get home more quickly, I showered in and out of the suit to make sure I was clean."

A smirk crosses my lips as I look back and forth between Bruce and the discarded Batsuit. "And Alfred just let you?"

He gives a frustrated groan. "I haven't told him yet."

All the relief, the joy, and Bruce's almost ashamed tone come together and I erupt with laughter. Bruce's only response is to fold his arms and look as cross as he can while staring back at me and waiting for me to finish. "Tell me so I don't have to guess, Bruce, where would you like your service held?" I joke. He furrows his brow and the laughter I thought had ended returns for a few moments more.

"Weren't you supposed to be asleep?" he finally asks as I calm.

I smile back and let my fun come to an end. "Alright, alright. I'll stop."

Bruce gives an approving nod and we exit the bathroom. He leaves the door only slightly ajar behind himself and turns back to me. I'm a little surprised to find that my relief is still so palpable. I let my emotions crest and I near enough jump him, rushing to him in one long stride. I wrap my arms around him and give him an impassioned kiss, declaring an end to our conversations as friends and colleagues and demanding we pick back up as romantic partners.

Bruce seems to relish in my decision. His arms are on me almost before I realize it. He kisses back against me just as quickly, treating me with the delicious sensation of his lips brushing back and forth across my own. I can practically taste his relief, and even his worries and concerns as he lets them all drain from his body.

At long last, we pull our lips apart, our feet mixed on the floor, his arms around my waist, my left arm on his back, my right over his left shoulder and onto his neck. We gaze into one another's eyes and I can see the world of difference a few moments of affection have made for Bruce's night. His smile gives way briefly, just long enough for me to watch and hear the words slip effortlessly from his tongue, "I love you, Diana."

"I love you, too, Bruce." I give him a quick peck on the lips, then brush my cheek against his as I lean my head over his left shoulder. When my lips are next to his ear, I give his tragus and the bottom of his earlobe each a quick kiss before whispering in my best, most sultry voice, "but if you ever talk to me or dismiss me like that again, I'll wrap you up in my lasso and make you say what you _really_ think of me…"

Bruce's response is quick, not a beat missed when he answers, "Is that a threat, Princess, or an invitation?"

His tone matches my own and it sends an odd shiver down my spine. "I think that might be up to you," I reply as I lean back, trying to merely look amused.

He takes a turn at laughing, then pulls his hands back, stopping when they're on my sides. I relax my grip as well, dropping both of my hands to his waist. I feel myself calming, the relief becoming less acute as I relax. I resign myself to sleep, everything beyond one more kiss from my Bruce a concern for tomorrow.

I lean towards him again. It's no surprise that he reads my intent, closing the gap himself and taking control of our ensuing kiss. I'm happy to let him. I don't need anything more than the touch of his lips to express myself, to confirm everything between us, to share both adoration and assurance.

* * *

******Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thanks for reading.**  
**


	8. Proposition

**Author's Note:** I'm bumping the rating up because I have a feeling I know where things will be going. I'd be interested to hear any and all opinions or input on the matter. As always, character ownership goes to DC Comics.

* * *

The warmth of the morning's first light hits my face, a flood of bright yellow against my eyelids that stirs me from my comfortable slumber. I feel the fingers of the hand on my bare chest give a tiny twitch, pulling slightly closer to their palm before relaxing. I smile knowingly in response.

I turn my head to my left and my smile broadens upon seeing the lovely face of my wife beside me. She's still asleep and I'm glad that the sunlight hasn't yet awoken her. I'm not quite sure when it started, but I've grown to enjoy seeing her sleeping face first thing in the morning. It's reassuring, giving me a sense that the world is at peace, that Gotham is safe, and that neither of us will need to rush off at the drop of a hat to avert disasters the world over.

Of course, the world isn't so perfect. There will always be Jokers, Ra's Al Ghuls, and Harvey Dents at the fringes of society, doing everything they can to upset the balance, even after the originals are dead and gone. Still, I let myself believe that it's all possible, here with my family in Wayne Manor, here with Diana in our marital bed, where we're both _reasonably_ sure our first-born was conceived.

I shake my head for a moment, freeing it of thought and stealing another moment to gaze at her peaceful expression. At this point, I'm not sure what will happen first, but before long, either Diana will wake up, or Alfred will arrive to wake us up for the day. _'Or the kids will come in to greet us…'_

My smile falters as I remember the last time that happened, how Diana and I had rushed to tear ourselves off one another and conceal ourselves with the bed sheets to maintain at least some sliver of dignity in front of our young son and daughter. _'To be certain, a disadvantage of letting my wife convince me to join her in the habit of sleeping nude…'_

Another moment of thought and my smile returns. I turn to the clock on my end table and see that I still have about five minutes before the top of the hour. After that, we'll be fair game for Alfred to come in and rouse us to start our day. The children may or may not be with him. Still, there should be enough time for a quick "good morning" between husband and wife.

I lift my left hand to Diana's own on my chest. I slip my thumb in against her palm, wrap my fingers over the back of her hand, and then squeeze gently. For a moment, nothing. It always surprises me to see how easily my wife clings to sleep. I begin rubbing my thumb against her palm and after a short while, I see her eyes begin to move behind her eyelids.

Before the end of my next breath, her eyes begin to open. Her hand closes over my thumb as she treats me with the loving gaze of her gorgeous blue eyes. A smile lifts the corners of her lips and I quickly mirror it with a smile of my own. "Good morning, Bruce." A gentle whisper that invites me to come closer.

I turn, rolling up onto my left side, taking Diana's left hand with mine to the narrow sliver of open space between our bodies. I reach across the gap with my right hand, lay it on the soft, bare skin of her side. She releases my hand, freeing it so I can lift myself on it. She rolls onto her back as I move over her, managing to lead me even from below.

I stop directly over her, drop down onto my elbows, and then slip my hands behind her back. At the same time, Diana's hands work their way around my sides and onto my back. She lifts her right hand to my head, eventually playing her fingertips into the hair at the base of my neck. Her left hand, meanwhile, explores nearly the whole of my back.

"Good morning, Diana," I finally reply, just before dropping my head down and taking her lips for our first kiss of the day. My thoughts branch out. _'Though this is a more than even trade in nudity's favor.'_

She gives a drawn out moan of satisfaction against me as we brush our lips against one another. There's a short pause at the end as she draws in a deep breath through her nose. She cuts the breath off to chuckle against me. I stop, breaking our kiss and pulling my lips away. "What?" I ask accusingly, my lips already tingling for more as I wish very much that her muffled laugh hadn't piqued my curiosity.

"Why, Bruce, I was under the impression you just wanted a good morning _kiss_…" I lift my body away from Diana's, raising my knees along her sides. She laughs again. "It's not like you to forget that Alfred's probably walking up the hallway already, Bruce."

She pauses again, gives me a loving, yet hungry smile. The dark pool of hair behind her head grows smaller as she lifts herself from her pillow, bringing her lips up to kiss me. Our lips meet for one tender kiss, then another, and one more after that. Her hands glide across my skin, settling for a moment atop my hips, then dropping around onto my stomach.

She reaches further and takes gentle hold of me in both hands. I give an involuntary jump at her touch and then reply with a slightly staggered exhale. "Really, Bruce, I'd love to…" She kisses me again, more forcefully, more hungrily. Her hands move against me in an odd, but fitting translation of her kiss, calming gradually to stillness as she lowers her head back into the pool of hair below her head. "…if you'd have thought of it before deciding to content yourself watching me sleep."

I smirk in reply. "Touché…" I lean down, kiss Diana lovingly, and then brush my cheek against hers as I bring my lips to her left ear. "…you minx."

In an instant, I'm on my back. Diana spins us around, the sheet and blankets draped over my back catching enough to double over beneath me when I land. If our bed weren't so large, the sheets would have fallen away, too narrow to continue covering us. "Minx?" she demands angrily, but I can see in her eyes that we're playing the same game.

"Could a minx have waited so many years for you to have your moment of epiphany and realize where your heart truly lay?" She leaves me the briefest of instants to 'think' before kissing me with passion. "Would a minx have stood by you when the fates themselves seemed to toy with us and mock our relationship?" Her tone grows steadily more affectionate.

She 'interrupts' herself for another impassioned kiss. "What minx would carry not one, but two children for you? Who but me would enjoy each day, each evening, each night, and each morning spent together with you?"

"See?" I laugh. "I knew there was a reason I married you."

Diana chuckles again. "You…" she trails off threateningly, but her body language betrays her long before she comes down for another kiss.

Just after our lips touch, there's a loud rapping from the far side of the room. Our bedroom door. Diana and I whip our heads towards the door, lay still for long enough to realize what's about to happen, and then Diana jumps off me to return to her side of the bed while I help get the covers straightened over us. We settle just in time, our hands finding each other under the covers as the door begins to open.

While our door opens with barely a sound, the surprisingly spry old man on the other side makes up for its silence. "_Good_ _morning_, Miss Diana, Master Bruce!" He's carrying a pair of trays and our everyday pick-me-ups as per our family's normal morning routine.

We both sit up as Alfred approaches, Diana lifting the edge of the top sheet to keep from flashing our old friend. Alfred approaches her side of the bed, sets the stacked trays down across her legs. He leaves a tray behind before he comes around to my side of the bed, setting the second tray across my lap, then reaching over to move Diana's iced mocha from my tray to hers.

The pair of us take our turns to thank Alfred humbly. "Please, you needn't thank me! It is as much my duty as it is my great honor to serve another generation of Waynes."

I open my mouth to thank Alfred anyway, but he cuts me off before my words form. "Now, then, I ask that you make haste and dress as quickly as possible. As you'll remember, Master Bruce, Mr. Fox insisted you attend this morning's board meeting and we will need to depart within the hour.

"Miss Diana, Mr. Holt left a message for you, asking if you would be willing to cover a partial monitor duty shift from 10:30 until noon. All things considered, I informed him that I would pass the message along, but advised him it was unlikely you would be able."

I turn to Diana. She shakes her head slowly, an apologetic look lifting the corners of her mouth into a smile. "Any day but today, Alfred. Of course you remember that I have to go to Themyscira to pick up Mother." She pauses, glances to me and her face falls with disappointment. "Oh, Bruce, don't tell me _you_ forgot about that."

"Sorry. I was just hoping you would have."

"Bruce Wayne, I cannot believe you're still holding that against her!"

"My idea of a honeymoon and your mother's are clearly two _very_ different things, Diana."

Diana laughs, leaning back and planting her right hand in her pillow to keep herself upright, her left still holding the sheet in place. I hope that she's laughing more with me than at me, but either way, I can't help but be struck once more by how gorgeous she is. If forced to pick just a few things, I'd have to say it's her eyes, her smile, and her long, flowing hair. _'Not to say that her shapely figure doesn't help, or her smooth, beautiful skin, or the overwhelming warmth inside her—'_

"Would it make you feel at all better if I said I preferred your version of a honeymoon over my mother's, Bruce?" she interrupts. It's probably for the better, I'm pretty sure I was getting off point.

I give a sigh, turning from Diana to the foot of the bed. "Yeah," I admit. I give a tiny shake of my head and a quiet humph, then smile before turning back to my wife. "It does help."

Alfred clears his throat. We both turn to where he is still standing beside the bed. "While I am happy to hear a positive outcome to your debate, I do advise you to make haste preparing for the day." He turns and walks toward the door. "Please keep in mind that Master Timothy can only distract the children for so long."

"Thank you, Alfred," Diana replies as he reaches the door. A moment later, we're left alone with our well-caffeinated drinks.

Diana drops the sheet as she sits back up, letting it pile across her lap while reaching for her iced mocha. She picks it up with both hands and lifts the mug to her lips. She takes a long sip before lowering the cup. I watch her swallow and then she gives a contented hum of a moan as her lips spread out in a blissful smile. "Perfect, Alfred," she says thankfully to the absent butler.

I lift my own coffee to my mouth and drink back a good mouthful. "Careful, Princess, you might develop an addiction."

"Ha!" She turns to me, a haughty look on her face with a smirk to match. "As if you weren't addicted to coffee and espressos, Bruce… Have you noticed how much you've already had to drink?"

I try to match her smirk while I lift my mug back up and glance sidelong into it to check its contents. My face falls as I lift my eyebrows in surprise. "What is it, Bruce?" Diana asks mockingly. She leans towards me, rests her shoulder against mine, and grabs the bottom of my mug, pulling it closer as if I weren't even trying to resist.

"Fine," I reply as I relax my arm and let her do whatever she wants. "I, Bruce Wayne, am addicted to coffee. Happy?"

An affectionate kiss on the side of my neck is my response. "_Very_ much so," she adds in a whisper to my ear. Before she moves away, she raises her voice back to a casual conversational tone and says, "Now, to answer your question: yes. Was it so hard to admit?"

A twitch of frustration runs through my left cheek, just below my eye. I give a groan in response and Diana laughs again while picking up her tray and mug. She climbs out of bed, stands beautifully nude and utterly unembarrassed beside it, and casually finishes her iced mocha while walking towards the wall of windows. She gazes out towards Gotham, the city she's wanted to be just as much a part of as Bruce Wayne is since our first date.

I finish my coffee and rise as well. I leave the tray and mug on my end table at the head of the bed and go to my bureau, fetching underclothes for the day. Diana joins me a few moments later, but she gathers up the pieces of her Wonder Woman armor and precedes me into our master bathroom.

"I'm starting up the shower," she announces as she passes through the open doorway. I reply with my thanks as I go to our closet and pick out a dress shirt and a pair of slacks. With my selections made, I move their hangars to the end of the hangar rod and then take my underwear into the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself.

I set my folded things down behind Diana's outfit on the edge of the sink's large countertop, then turn to the shower. Diana is already inside, her image partly obscured by a combination of the glass and the shower's water. I open the glass door and step quickly inside. She gives me an affectionate smile as she turns to me and sweeps her hands over the top of her head, squeezing some of the water from her long locks.

I smile back as I join her under the flowing water. Until it comes time to wash each other's backs, we pay attention mostly to ourselves. Diana offers to wash my back first and I turn for her. She touches her bare hands to my back and begins to explore. I'm about to ask if she plans to get the soap out or not when she gives a little gasp of surprise.

"Oh, wow. I don't remember seeing this."

"What?"

Her fingers glide down to my left side, just below my ribs. I immediately feel the tiny stab of pain from just ahead of Diana's fingers. I keep the reaction from my face automatically. "You've got like a gouge of a cut here," she informs.

I give a hum of acknowledgment. "Must have been from Killer Croc."

She gives a sigh of disappointment. "I knew I should have gone out with you last night." She begins to massage the skin around the small wound. "I can't believe I missed that last night."

She gives a huff after a moment more and then moves her hand away, ending her massage. "Well, in any case…" she trails off as she slips her hands around to my chest, pressing herself snugly against my back and hugging me. She brings her lips to my ear.

"I do know what was _impossible_ for me to miss last night…" A sultry whisper. Her hands start traveling down my chest and I know exactly where this is going. The urgency Alfred impressed upon us about our children's energetic impatience vanishes from my mind, leaving me unwilling and unable to stop her. My meager mental preparations aren't enough. Reflex kicks in when she grips me. My eyes close and I give a surprised jump standing there wrapped up in her arms.

I relax and open my eyes to a world of difference. I'm looking up at the ceiling in our room. I feel as though I'm just waking up, as if the last half hour or so had never happened. I notice that Diana's hand is missing from my chest and turn my head to see if she is still asleep beside me.

Her side of the bed is empty. I lay still in mind and body as I try to come up with an explanation. _'No, not empty. It's like she was…never there to begin with…' _Realization dawns on me. My happiness, my joy, my arousal; everything fades, quickly becoming nothing but vivid memories. Anger fills me and my hands close into tight fists at my sides. I draw my lips back, baring my teeth as anger escalates to fury.

I don't know how I stop the fury from turning into a blind, violent rage, but I'm up and out of bed in a flash. I approach the glass windows and nearly slam my fist through a pane as I curse but a single name under my breath, "_Apollo!_"

After a few moments, I tip my head forward. I open my right hand as my forehead touches gently against the glass. I lift my hand from my side to the glass beside my head and gaze out towards the city that has both given and taken so much from me.

I had thought Diana's Greek gods would be through with me after everything that happened with Harvey Dent. Now I know what they really want with me: exactly what I want for myself, for us—what I've thought about and debated with myself about for months. I know what I have to do. I suppose I always have.

I take a moment to close my eyes, whispering as I open them once more, "Diana…" As soon as her name slips past my lips, my anger begins to cool. I push off the window and turn around.

After crossing the room again, I approach my end table by the bed and open its single, small drawer. I reach in and grasp the one item hidden within. I close the drawer and lift the object towards my face. I turn my hand around the small box of ruby red and spend a few moments staring at it.

_'__I have a lot of work to do, preparations to make.'_ I close my fingers around its rounded edges. "No more delays."

There's a knock at my door. I'm confident of what's about to happen, but I clutch the velvety box closer to my chest in case I'm wrong. "Good morning, Master Bruce!" Alfred exclaims to announce his entry.

I turn back to face him as he closes the door behind himself. "Oh. Well, I see that you're already awake, Master Bruce." He begins to approach. "Might I ask why…" He's close enough now to see around my shoulder. I don't even need to follow his gaze. I don't think anything else would have stopped him short.

Alfred looks up from my hand to my face. "My lips are sealed, Master Bruce. I shall not spoil the surprise." I relax, regard him with appreciation. It isn't surprising at all that Alfred wouldn't give even a degree of credence to any other possible reasons for my action. "May I ask what you've decided thus far, sir?"

A whirlwind of thoughts and possibilities fills my mind. "Tonight at dinner." A good start. "I'll inform Tim, Dick, and Barbara afterwards…assuming she says yes." My right hand at my side tightens closed as I silently chastise myself for the moment of doubt.

A moment later, there's a hand on my shoulder. I turn back to Alfred just in time for him to speak. "She will, Bruce. She will." Just for a moment, no longer the employee, the trusted butler, the valued ally. For just a moment, now the friend, the man who stepped up when no one else could to become a father. It's reassuring.

Still, I can't help my curiosity, my persisting doubt. "How can you be so sure, Alfred?"

He smiles. "Take heart, Master Bruce. You and I could never dream to match her physical prowess, but you will always be her equal in determination and, I fear, stubbornness." He pauses, brings his hands together behind his back. "You'll have to forgive me if I've misunderstood any of the details, sir, but Miss Diana has overcome her prejudices about Man's World, as it were, in order to follow her heart.

"I'm sure you've had at least a few occasions these past few months where you asked yourself if you truly are worthy of being with a woman such as Miss Diana. With all due respect, it is not your choice to make, Master Bruce, it is hers. Given how long she was willing to wait for you to come to your senses and, indeed, how quickly she came back around when she decided herself finished with you, I believe she has already reached her answer. You only need ask her.

"Open the door for her, Master Bruce, and I am sure she will step through with pride befitting the princess of the Amazons and with the fervent joy of a woman very much in love."

I find myself nodding as I turn back to my hand and its precious cargo. "Of course you realize I'm going to need your help, Alfred."

"I said my lips are sealed, sir, not that I would let you carry on alone." I lift an eyebrow as I turn back enough to look askance at the old man. "If you'd prefer, sir, I will visit your office at around noon. We can work out the details of the evening during your lunch."

"I'd appreciate that, Alfred." I forget myself for a moment and close my eyes, barely stopping myself from asking him if he will need hurry back after lunch, if a guest room is ready for my mother-in-law, Queen Hippolyta.

"Now, then, Master Bruce, I'll leave you to prepare for the day. I've already taken Master Timothy to school and Miss Diana asked me to inform you that she'll be covering a monitor duty shift from six until noon. She said she would wait and see where the afternoon takes her, but she expects not to be back until the evening."

"Thank you, Alfred," I tell him as I turn back. I watch as he nods, then turns away, heading to the door and back into the hallway.

As I begin readying myself for the day, I review the past few minutes since I woke up. While stepping into the shower in my bathroom, I remember that Diana had dreamt about me, about what I would have looked like if Two-Face had succeeded. I remember our unfinished discussion next. With a quick estimate of last night's timeline, I figure she barely had her dream before I stumbled into Two-Face's trap.

_'__We__'ll __need to talk more about this. Perhaps there's a detail that Diana omitted, or even something more about my patrol that I can tell her, something that'll help the pieces fit together. I'll have to ask her when she come__s __hom—'_ My face quickly twists into a scowl. "No! No more delays! Dinner comes first, everything else can wait until after."

I finish up my shower, my mind silent as I clean and then dry myself off. I'm not really sure where to begin. I can't help but think back to Susan Maguire. Everything I felt then was a lie, emotions induced by the pheromones woven into her by Ivy. I proposed to her on the middle deck of a yacht in the early evening, immediately after giving her a box of flowers. I hadn't said a word, had let my actions speak for me.

I feel like I want the opposite for Diana. We both live the extraordinary every day as Wonder Woman and Batman. I want to speak, to express myself on top of my actions.

I remain mostly distracted through the ride into Gotham with Alfred. It isn't until my secretary asks if anything is wrong that I realize how far away my mind is. She tells me that I seem pre-occupied. I endeavor to focus on business for the rest of the morning.

Alfred arrives at almost precisely noon. Before 12:01 in any case. "Good afternoon, Master Bruce," he greets as he walks in.

I look up from my desk. "Afternoon, Alfred." He's holding a short tower of opaque plastic containers in both hands at elbow level.

"I have your lunch, sir. I trust you won't mind something from home over commissary food." He must have noticed my gaze.

"Of course, Alfred. Just so long as you brought something for yourself as well." He smiles knowingly in response. I wave to one of the chairs opposite my own. "Pull up a seat," I invite.

With a nod, Alfred crosses the room. I clear my desktop and he sets the containers side-by-side atop it before pulling up a chair. I think he's about to sit down, but instead, he reaches into his coat and pulls out a rolled up cloth napkin from the manor. It jingles as he unrolls it, revealing two sets of utensils.

He reaches across towards me, setting one set of silver in front of me before his own. He does the same with the napkins, revealing the single roll to be two napkins, one inside the other. Only when our settings are ready does he seat himself.

I look to the two containers as he turns his attention to them and notice something odd about them. They seem to be upside down. It becomes obvious why when he takes one container and then the other apart. What I thought should be the tops of the containers are actually makeshift plates, the real tops were like a server's plate cover resting atop them.

Alfred and I begin to eat relaxedly. He had prepared for me herb-crusted filet mignon, served alongside a modest serving of scalloped potatoes and steamed asparagus. It tastes just as if we were eating at home and I'm amazed at how warm it is. I nearly let myself ask if he reheated our meals along the way, but I bite the question back down when Alfred begins to speak.

"So, Master Bruce, have you had any opportunity to consider this evening?"

"…Not really."

"I cannot say I am surprised, sir. How do you imagine you will propose?"

I don't answer for a moment, my mind going over a few possibilities that immediately pop into my mind. "It'd be a lot easier to go about it as I would a business proposition."

Alfred stares back at me for a moment, utterly aghast. "I should hope that is _not_ your plan, Master Bruce!"

"Of course not, no."

Alfred lets out a sigh of relief. "Well, if you don't mind another piece of advice, I strongly urge you _not_ to consider serving such a precious item in her meal."

"I take it 'served in the wine' is out, too."

"Unless you wish your first memory of Miss Diana wearing your ring to begin with her fishing it out of a glass with a fork."

I give a groan in agreement. I can't imagine Diana would particularly want wine with dinner anyhow. Not at home in the manor. Maybe the wine would be a little less out of place at a restaurant, but I want this to be a private affair.

We let the rest of our meal pass in silence, both of us—I'm sure—considering options, letting ideas simmer on their own before we begin to share them. When our meal has passed, Alfred shoots almost all of my suggestions down, mostly as being uninspired, too cliché, or simply not suited to me or the relationship Diana and I share.

I agree that Alfred's suggestions are better, but none of them excite me, nothing that grabs me by the collar and demands that I pick it. As the end of the lunch break begins to approach, my mind goes back to the business deal approach and I make a side-comment about it aloud to Alfred. He replies with unamused sarcasm, but his answer sends my mind into a frenzy.

I seize on the new idea, explain it to Alfred when he inevitably questions my growing excitement. I watch Alfred's eyes, seeing approval and a growing enthusiasm as my old friend listens.

We discuss it for a short while longer afterwards, Alfred helping to refine the idea before we move on to the next most important thing: atmosphere. I give Alfred full reign of our meal and I take his advice for lighting and the dining hall itself. He asks about Tim, so I tell him I'll ask Tim and Barbara to begin their patrol early, a not uncommon request after a night as busy as the last.

I spend the afternoon after he leaves as focused on my work as I can. No matter what I do, however, thoughts of the coming evening lurk at the edge of my mind. I drag myself from meeting to meeting, in and out of my office, from one floor to the next as I move between tasks and spend time amongst my employees.

"Mr. Wayne," my secretary says to grab my attention as I go to my office later in the afternoon.

"Yes, Miss Park?"

"Two things. First, Mr. Fox asked if you would mind delaying your four o'clock until tomorrow." I nod in approval. He was supposed to meet me here at my office, but the free time to think will be just as welcome. "Second, sir, if you don't mind me saying, you seem a lot more relaxed than you did this morning. Did you have a pleasant lunch with Mr. Pennyworth?"

A smirk begins to cross my face, but I chase it back before it can seem too out of character. "Yes. Alfred noticed the same thing as you before we left the manor, so we arranged to talk things out at lunch. He was very helpful."

I'm not really sure why I'm offering such details, it just seems the right thing to do. "May I ask what with?" I shouldn't be surprised that she would be curious.

"Sorry, I plan to keep things close to the chest for now. I'm sure you'll learn about it sooner or later, though." She looks a little disappointed, but understanding.

I suppose it'll be enough for the rumor mill, but as I walk past her desk and to the door to my office, I realize why I even let myself engage in such a discussion at all. Any rumor that comes of this is neither a concern nor a goal. _'I wanted the chance to say something committal, to make an implicit promise to another that I will go through with tonight.'_

I close my office door and settle in at my desk. Rather than spend time on work, I rest my elbows on the desktop and lift my hands to my face. I slowly bring my hands together, palm-to-palm, my fingers held straight. I close my forefingers over my nose and rest my chin on the crook of my thumbs.

Across the room, I stare. My gaze is blank, but my mind is hard at work. I think the thoughts of a man in love, afraid to lose it, but determined and excited to put himself on the line. Even so, I think as the Batman, as I've trained myself for so many years, anticipating and planning for contingencies. Even the benign contingencies seem impossible, enigmas more difficult to approach than Riddler's puzzles.

Along with that train of natural thought come the pessimisms, the worst case scenarios. It's too easy to let myself believe that something would hold Diana back. Even in the face of all of Alfred's confidence, even after all his assurances, I can't help worrying that something will go wrong.

It's perfectly clear, the influence Diana's had on me. Batman, the symbol, is still capable of the same distance and closed-heartedness as always. I'll admit it hurt, but I proved it again only last night. However, Bruce Wayne, the man, has changed. I've let myself change. I've begun to show others the changes. I've even embraced my new self.

Now, tonight… With a single, simple question I'm going to let her see how far I've come—how far she has taken me. I'm going to wear my heart on my sleeve. _'…And I'm going to give Diana the choice and the power to either cradle or crush it.'_

And with that understanding, I try to get back to work, occupying my mind with the inner workings of Wayne Enterprises, its business operations, and the foundations named in honor of my parents' memory. The wait until 5:00 is almost more than I'm willing to stand. A few times, I find myself reaching for the phone to ask Alfred to come in and pick me up early, but I always manage to reign myself in, a few times reminding myself that Alfred would appreciate all the leeway I can give him. Calling out of turn to ask him to rearrange his own schedule for the afternoon and evening certainly won't help me in the long run.

Of course, when the end of the day finally arrives, I make my way hastily to the ground floor and the front entrance of Wayne Enterprises. Alfred barely makes it to the curbside parking before I do, pulling up as the doors close behind me. He gets out and comes around the car just as I start down the steps to the curb.

"Long wait?" I ask in jest.

He gives a slight chuckle as he opens the door. "Fortunately not, sir. The manor is nearly ready for the evening. I have only to cook dinner and finish up with a few of the more obvious touches in the dining hall."

"Glad to hear it, Alfred." I climb into the car. As soon as Alfred closes the door, I relax myself as much as possible, loosening my tie as I lean back against the seat. I'm going to be anxious enough at dinner, I don't need to hold up the professional appearance of a CEO anymore, at least not for the rest of the night.

The ride home is peaceful and I manage to ignore the traffic enough to nearly fall asleep. I snap back when Alfred stops for the gate at the end of the driveway. He lets me out not long after by the front door while he parks the car in the garage. Before I can even get out of the foyer, Tim emerges from the living room.

"Tim," I begin after we've exchanged our greetings, "I want you and Barbara to get an early start this evening."

He gives an understanding humph in reply. "Kind of figured you'd ask that. Can't say I blame you after what happened last night." He turns and I follow his gaze to see Alfred entering from the hall. "Alfred, Bruce tell you I'll need to eat early?"

"Yes, Master Timothy, he did forewarn me."

"Ok, good. Let me go give Barbara a call to let her know and then I'll help out so you don't have to cook everything for me by yourself."

"I appreciate the effort, sir." As Tim then turns and leaves, Alfred remains still for a few moments extra. I turn to him to ask if something is wrong, but he immediately turns to me and cuts me off. "I will not break my word, Master Bruce, but I certainly believe you should have told him your intentions for the evening. Who knows, perhaps the extra support could put your mind at ease."

"And you're probably right." I draw the corners of my lips up and back into a momentary smirk. "Sorry, Alfred, my mind is already set."

"As I anticipated, sir." He's a little disappointed, but there's certainly no surprise in his tone. "I'll be in the kitchen or the dining hall should you need anything."

"Thank you, Alfred."

I watch him turn back down the hall towards the kitchen, then turn myself and head down another hallway towards the back half of Wayne Manor. I walk without thought, but I'm quite sure my ambling is not aimless. When I find myself at the doorway to the sitting room, I know exactly where I'm going.

With purpose, I walk to the fireplace. I stop a few feet away, standing directly in front of it. I lift my eyes past the mantle. _'Mom, Dad…'_ I stare in still silence at my parents' portrait as I try to gather my thoughts.

Finally, I back up and take a seat in a nearby armchair. I look for a few moments at the floor past my knees, then lift my attention back to the portrait. _'I know it's kind of pointless, talking to you like this, but it's easier for me than going into Gotham, so I hope you don't mind…'_

I smile. _'I figured out why you were so happy, or rather I stumbled into it for myself. I found someone willing to accept and love me, but the only response I had was to ignore her feelings and cling to my focus as Batman. If not for Alfred, I'd have let her go when she finally gave up and left. Now…now, I can't imagine life without Diana.'_

I stand up again, step towards the fireplace as I continue my inner dialogue. _'I'm going to propose to her tonight. Even so, I won't let a thing like marriage stop me from being Batman and I won't ask Diana to stop being Wonder Woman. There are too many who rely on us both. My work—our work—is too important to stop now.'_ I turn, heading back towards the doorway. I pause before I exit the room, turn back, and look up at the portrait. "…But I'm important, too, aren't I?"

I smile again as I leave the room, remembering the love my parents showed me. After this morning's dream, it's all I can remember about them. Before I make it back to the foyer, I begin to feel a sense of longing, not for the parents I lost so long ago, but for Diana, for the glimpse of the life that Apollo showed me, a possibility for the future that I want more deeply than anything to make reality.

I head upstairs to change into a pair of slacks and a black sweater, wanting all the while to fall asleep each night and wake up each morning beside Diana. I want to meet the son and daughter we had both in my own dream and in Diana's, the children that in a sense I know, but even in dreams, I've yet to meet. In an odd way, it's heart-wrenching to think about. I can't help but feel a sense of loss, like the dream's vision of life-to-be tore a new hole in my real life that now begs to be filled.

I only manage to tear myself from my thoughts by retreating to the Batcave and, more specifically, the Batcomputer. The results of last night's patrol are all over the news. Anger fills my thoughts when I see that Harvey Dent will only be held in police custody for twenty-four hours before being returned to Arkham Asylum.

Apparently, there was no "reliable witness account" to say anything other than that Harvey Dent had been the unfortunate victim of two kidnappings in one night, first by Penguin's men, then by me. Penguin's case isn't much better. Two years in Blackgate Prison on misdemeanors, most of the charges dropped and with no one to corroborate his murderous intents for Dent. With good behavior and a favor here and there, he'll be out within a few months.

I soon change tracks and look again for information leading to Joker. He hasn't made any appearances since Robin and I encountered him in the warehouse in Bayside. The absence of the Clown Prince of Crime worries me. He's planning something, I've known that much, but exactly what still eludes me. I need to be ready for him, whenever he does appear.

I begin delving into more and more sources of information, looking for anything that would point to Joker's involvement. I soon realize the endless path I'm setting myself down upon and stop. I put the Batcomputer into stand-by mode and lift myself to my feet. _'I can't lose myself here, not tonight. I need to make sure Diana doesn't stumble into the dining room before it's time to eat.'_

I turn back to the stairs and walk briskly back into the manor proper. As coincidence would have it, I make it to the foyer just as Barbara arrives. "Hey, Bruce!" she greets when she sees me.

"Barbara, good evening."

"Tim called, said you wanted us to get an early start on patrol tonight." I give a nod in response. "Any word on what happened with Penguin or Two-Face after last night?"

I nod again before explaining. "Your father is holding Harvey until tonight, then they're returning him to Arkham. Apparently there was no one to come forward and testify about what really happened last night. Same for Cobblepot. All of his employees put in a good word for their employer, so the murder conspiracy charges aren't sticking. The thugs he sent to Arkham even took all the blame for kidnapping Dent."

Barbara looks pensive for a moment before turning back to me. "Well, at least we'll be there next time something happens." I give another nod in agreement, then she checks her watch. "So, where's Tim? We should get going if we're starting early."

"In the kitchen with Alfred."

"Good, I'll go get him. Are you waiting for Diana?"

I pause for a moment. Running into Barbara here was more coincidence than intent. "I suppose I will," I reply. "I'll try to join you earlier than last night."

She gives a chuckle while turning to the hallway to the kitchen. "Don't worry about it, Bruce. I'm sure we can handle ourselves. Though if you're going to insist on joining us, I'm going to start insisting you at least let one of us start joining you." She reaches the end of the hallway and leaves me behind in the foyer. "You're good, _really good_—we all know that—but sometimes it helps to have your back-up with you instead of a radio call away."

_'__Though both options have their own tactical advantages and disadvantages…'_ I tell myself as she disappears down the hall. I take a deep breath. I've always preferred working alone. Even when operating with the League, I've always preferred being the only one at risk, the only one to worry about.

I'm not at all shy about taking advantage of the strengths of my allies. _'It's just…'_ I walk to the banister on the right side of the staircase. _'…if I can accomplish a task on my own and with only my own tools, why bother complicating matters by involving someone else?'_

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, leaning down a little as I try to clear my mind. I'm not sure how much time passes before I hear quiet conversation cutting into my calm. I realize immediately that it's Barbara and Tim coming back this way. I maintain my stance, nearly smiling when Tim expresses surprise at my posturing and shushes Barbara. I follow them with my ears as they cross in front of me and head for the study and the Batcave below.

It isn't much longer that I hear more footsteps from my left. Alfred, who else could it be but him? "Master Bruce?"

I lift my head and open my eyes as I turn to him. "Yes, Alfred?"

"Your meal and the hall are prepared. May I assume we only await Miss Diana's arrival, sir?"

"Yeah," I answer, turning back to the front door. I take another deep breath and fold my arms against my chest.

Nearly a minute passes between us in silence, then I feel a hand on my shoulder. I straighten a bit and turn again to Alfred. "Relax, Bruce. There's nothing to be anxious about. There is nothing more certain in this world. You won't need any of the back-up plans I'm sure you've devised by now."

My body reacts first, taking Alfred's words as something between a command and permission. My arms drop to my sides and the breath I wasn't aware I was holding drains evenly from my lungs. I clear my thoughts again as I relax my shoulders as well. "Thanks, Alfred."

He smiles back with a pride that I've come to recognize as an outward expression of his approval. It's only a few moments later when the front door begins to move. I push away from the end of the banister and begin to approach as the door swings open to reveal Princess Diana of Themyscira in her full Wonder Woman armor.

She stops just short of greeting us, surprised to see both Alfred and I waiting in the foyer. "Don't tell me you're waiting for me."

"Just happened to be passing through when I heard you opening the door," I reassure with a smile.

"Alfred, too?" Without needing to see the suspicion in her expression, her tone tells me long before she turns to the elder man behind me that she's seen through me to call my bluff.

She closes the door and we approach each other, sharing an easy embrace and a gentle kiss in the middle of the foyer. "You don't have to wait for me to start dinner if you don't want to, you know."

"Nonsense!" Alfred exclaims. I hold onto Diana as we turn a little so we can both turn our heads to see him. "You're every bit as much a part of this family as Master Bruce is, Miss Diana. Better to wait for you than to serve reheated leftovers and leave you to eat alone.

I watch the smile on Diana's lips grow at Alfred's declaration. Her right hand on my left shoulder begins to rub back and forth across its top, her thumb soon beginning to rub up and down across the front of my shoulder. "Thanks," she answers with joy, appreciation, and a tiny shadow of embarrassment.

"Now then, if you are both ready, dinner will be served momentarily."

Diana lets me go and I follow suit. "Hold on just a few minutes, Alfred, I'd like to change first."

"Of course, Miss Diana."

Diana gives me another kiss as Alfred heads back to the kitchen. She then heads upstairs to her room. I meanwhile head for the door to the dining room and wait outside it for her. I don't have to wait too long, fortunately, as it keeps me from the temptation of peeking into the dimly lit hall.

I see Diana coming down the hallway in a pair of slacks of her own and a pewter-colored blouse with a high collar and long sleeves. Another outfit she improves just by virtue of choosing to don it.

"Something going on I'm not aware of, Bruce?" she asks as she approaches.

I barely contain a knowing smirk, stopping it at a mere smile. "Alfred helped me plan something a little different for the evening, I'll admit that much."

"But I'll have to wait and see about the rest?" I nod in reply. "Alright. What are we waiting for?"

I'm tempted to answer I'm waiting for her, but she passes by me. I quickly turn and link my arm with hers so that we'll walk into the room together. We step into the dining hall at once, both of us taking in the candlelit table, a sparse trail of candles leading up to the head, where a candelabra sits fully lit between our usual place settings. The chandeliers hanging about the room are set nearly at their dimmest, adding a hint of artificial light to help even out the room's lighting.

"Mmm, this is nice… You know you haven't told me what the occasion is yet."

"I know. I was planning to let you figure it out. No guesses, though. Don't say anything until you're absolutely sure," I answer as we reach Diana's chair.

I assist her into her seat in as gentlemanly a way as possible before rounding the head of the long dining table to take my own seat. Barely after I seat myself, Alfred enters with a pair of salads for the two of us. He sets each dish down and then leaves, only to return a few moments later with caffeine, our usual pick-me-ups, as I had called them in this morning's dream.

We engage in a small, pleasant conversation over our appetizers, discussing my rather ordinary day at Wayne Enterprises and Diana's self-described boring morning of monitor duty and her more interesting afternoon of combat training and minor criminal interruptions.

A few minutes after we each finish, Alfred returns to retrieve our dishes. We spend a few moments thanking him a second time for the appetizers and Diana asks what we're having for dinner. I have to hide my smirk as he answers, wondering to myself just how much longer Diana will really care about what our main course is.

Before I know it, Alfred is coming back into the room, carrying a large tray with our dishes, each gourmet dinner plate covered with a domed silver cover. He sets the three plates on the table, Diana's before her, mine in front of me, and the third he places in between us.

"Diana, would you mind me asking a question?" I ask as Alfred reaches for the handle of the cover over Diana's plate.

"Yes?" she answers and I'm a little thankful she didn't try to joke, saying she just answered one. She looks up to me for a moment, but soon turns back to her plate, anxious to see her meal.

I wait a few extra moments before continuing, giving Alfred enough time to begin lifting the cover away. He lifts it higher and I feel something deep in the back of my mind, like the chime of a timer, and I know the timing is right. "Princess Diana of Themyscira, will you marry me?"

As soon as the words leave my mouth, my body seems to freeze up. My heart pounds away in my chest as my breathing comes to an abrupt halt and I sit stock still as Alfred pulls the cover totally out of her way and we both intently watch Diana's reaction.

First, the silver in her hands drops to the table, clattering against the other silver utensils below. Her lips part slightly and with tentative hands, she reaches towards the small velvet ring box sitting alone and opened in the middle of her plate. Alfred had turned it perfectly. I can't see the ring from my seat, but the opened box is facing her as if it had been designed to present its contents solely to her.

Her fingertips reach the box and I see the surprise on her face give way to immense joy. My heart picks up its pace and I nearly spring from my chair when she begins to silently and enthusiastically nod her head. "Yes, Bruce. Yes, I'll marry you," she finally replies aloud before I even make it around the first corner at the table's head.

Alfred backs up, clearing the way for me to come around to Diana's side. I make a move for the ring box and Diana relinquishes it without protest. "Ohh, Bruce, thank you..." She gives a sniff as I'm sure tears of joy well in the corners of her eyes.

I pull the ring from its box and grip it between the fingertips of my left hand. At the same time I slip my right hand beneath her left and lift it from the table's surface. She reads my intent as my left hand approaches hers and lifts her ring finger away from its sisters, curling her other fingers around my hand to better present the designated digit to me.

With relief pouring from my heart and head, I gently slip the gem-adorned ring past the tip of her ring finger and down to its base. Her other fingers grip my hand more firmly as the ring slips further and further onto her hand.

"But," she says suddenly as I bring her ring to rest against the webbing between her fingers. I give a little jump at her firm tone and then stop cold. Worry grips me as I desperately try to figure out what could go wrong now, what could hold her back after already agreeing to accept me in marriage.

I lift my gaze from her hand to her eyes, see her staring intently back at me. "There's one condition, Bruce." Her tone is deathly serious. I find myself swallowing nervously as I nod in reply. "I will gladly take your name, but you will not own me." Her expression shifts again, relaxing. Her voice follows suit. "And I won't own you, Bruce." She lifts her newly ringed hand to my right cheek and the forming smile on her lips touches every corner of her expression. "I want to be your equal partner in marriage, Bruce, and I want all the love and respect that comes with it."

The tension her pause built up within me drains and I smile back, taking her hand with my cheek as I lean down and plant an impassioned kiss upon her lips. I pull them away just far enough and just long enough to answer her. "Deal." As soon as the word leaves my lips, I lean back in for more, standing beside Diana, leaning over her and kissing again and again at her lips, savoring her taste and reveling in the knowledge that this woman is now my fiancée and I am hers.

Alfred had been right about Diana's answer. My parents had been right about happiness. A part of me wishes I'd realized sooner, that I'd let myself aim for my own happiness before now, but one fact stays the train of thought: it might be another woman sitting before me now, happy to wear my ring on her finger. That alone makes the wait worth it.

Finally, I pull my lips away, leaving Diana with my own heartfelt thanks before I stand tall beside her. Her hands fall to my own before I can leave her side and I look to them for a moment before lifting my gaze back to Diana's eyes.

"I…hope this doesn't spoil the mood, Bruce, but to be honest, I have a question for you as well. Let's call it…a friendly proposition."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thanks for reading.

I have to admit, Bruce's reaction upon waking up was pretty much in line with my own. I really enjoyed writing that section and I really look forward to more of it. Not quite sure how or what of it I'll be able to work it in, though.


	9. Intermission

**Author's Note:** Legitimately an intermission and not a regular chapter. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

* * *

"Apollo!" my too frequent…guest bellows in anger to announce his arrival.

I let my shoulders fall, keeping myself from turning just yet. I barely manage to keep from letting out an exasperated sigh. Instead, I turn around with as pleasant an expression and tone as I can manage. "Is something the matter, Ares?"

The god of war pauses for the briefest of moments before he stomps up to me and grabs me by my shoulders, nearly by my neck. He yanks me closer. "You know _exactly_ what is 'the matter,' Apollo! Do not trifle with me!" he snarls.

I ignore his rudeness, choosing only to address his words with a smile that endures despite his treatment. "Is everything not going according to plan, my dear half-brother?"

"Plan? Plan! The _plan_ was to destroy the Amazon princess, not give her...romance and marriage!" He pushes me back and begins to turn away. "I _knew_ I should have gone to Morpheus for this, but, no... I had to turn to family first!"

My eyes widen involuntarily. I cannot let him cast me aside in this matter. Not when things have already come so far. Not when Aphrodite is also still depending on my assistance. "Fear not, half-brother—"

He whirls back to face me, interrupting me as his emotions continue to run wild. "Fear? I do not fear, I merely let my anger boil as I watch my goals drift further and further from my grasp!"

He lowers his head, tipping it forward and narrowing his eyes as he looks out from beneath his furrowed brow at me. "You invade Morpheus's realm, _my dear half-brother_. Tell me why you are more deserving than he to help me further."

The answer comes to me quickly. In truth, it's not far off from what I intended to say before Ares cut me off. "I certainly will not argue that dreams are Morpheus's realm, but it is well within my own to deliver prophecies and visions of the future, Ares. Regardless, I know you wish to attack her from the sides, to attack her mind and heart. I am intimately aware of your plans and, indeed, am already very much involved myself. Most importantly, I realize that the more one has, the more one has to lose."

The fury in Ares' eyes fades and his expression shifts, making way for a devilish grin. "Ahh! I see your plan in this. Perhaps I should change my approach as well…" He looks away from me. I can practically see the ideas coming together in his mind.

He steps around me, turning his focus to the mortal realm. "Yes, yes…" He chuckles with malice befitting a conniver. Finally, he turns back to me. "Very well, then, my half-brother, you may continue as you see fit. Build them up, steer their lives for the better. Then, when the time is right, I will _tear them down_."

I cannot keep myself from hesitating for a few short moments. "...Yes." I manage to recover rapidly enough. "Certainly, I will continue my endeavors."

"Then I shall take my leave and return you to your work. I have my own plans to set in motion." I return his farewell and he vanishes in a burst of fire.

I take a deep breath and relax, my own brush with disaster averted. I turn my attention from where Ares stood, looking back to the world of mortals. "You will have to forgive me, Princess Diana. I am honor-bound by my obligations, both to Ares and to Aphrodite," I mutter, though I'm unsure why I bother saying anything aloud. _'I will help you to strengthen your bond to the mortal until Ares moves his pawns, but after that, it will be upon you and your betrothed to protect each other and whatever else you hold dear.'_

"I need only for Ares to give me enough time…"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.

It's guest reviewer appreciation day! First off, I have to apologize to my guest reviewer from back in chapter four, Home. I agree Home was a bit drama light, but I still like how it turned out. Also, my Justice League fanfics all follow the DCAU timeline (chronologically) up until the end of Justice League Unlimited, in which Jason Todd doesn't exist. For butterflyV, I'm always glad to see you're still around and reviewing! Hopefully, you feel that the wait for Bruce's proposal and for Lois and Clark to meet again was worth it. We'll actually be seeing Kal again very soon.


	10. Warning

**Author's Note:** Remember that rating change? Tell me if you ever feel I'm skirting the line a little too closely. Also, it's been brought to my attention that the Italian for delicious is with a "z" instead of a "c." This has been retroactively corrected.

* * *

"You want to…what?"

I smile as best I can. "I want to join you on patrol," I repeat.

"No. And anyway, that's a request, not a proposition."

I give a small groan. "Fine." I spend a few moments in thought. "Then how about this… You let me join you at night on Gotham's streets and I'll let you choose _how_ I join you."

The silence hangs heavy over us for a few moments. Bruce pulls the rarely-used chair out from the head of the table with his foot and sits on its edge. His hands never leave mine. He stares deep into my eyes and I stare back, hoping that he sees the need I feel in my heart.

"Fine. We'll dine out more often."

My eyes narrow as I glare back at him without patience. "You know I don't mean like that."

He takes a deep breath. There's a little disappointment, but no surprise and I can't help but think he only meant the question as a delaying tactic. As if to prove me right, he levels his gaze at me. "Why?"

"Because…" I haven't exactly nailed down a real verbal answer for this question; I have numerous wants and needs, but most are too vague to give voice. About the most important thing is concern for his safety, but I can't just say that I want to make sure he stays safe. He'd never accept that sort of charity.

I drop my eyes from Bruce's to his chest and my thoughts come slowly as they work past my ill-preparedness. Time for a delaying tactic of my own. "I want to be your equal partner in marriage, Bruce." _'Of course that's true, but there's more to it than that.'_

"I want to be as much a part of this city as you are." A quick pausing breath. _'Yes, but even that leaves something important out.' _I can tell from Bruce's expression that it doesn't satisfy him any more than it does me. I focus my gaze back on his eyes. "And I want to see the sense of peace I witnessed the evening we first went to Gotham Delizioso endure through both the day and the night."

Bruce closes his eyes, a pensive look plastered across his expression. "Fine," he eventually relents, "but we'll work out the details later." Despite his apparent borderline disapproval, a sense of relief washes over me. His expression shifts. He begins to gently rub his hands against my newly ringed left and open his eyes. "For now, let's just…focus on _this_ moment."

I smile, nod, and then join my right hand with the pile on the table, wrap mine around both of his, and lean towards him. He takes the hint well, leaning closer. Our lips meet in a gentle, loving kiss. As a second begins, our hands come apart and I lift mine to the ends of Bruce's jaw.

Despite the sensations of our kiss, the distinct feel of Bruce's skin under my hands, and the brush of his hands on my upper arms and shoulders, one new sensation stands out from the rest: the band of metal on my left ring finger. It still feels so new, foreign. Even now it's a little cool, but I can feel it warming to match my own temperature. It feels like the greatest of accomplishments. A symbol. A milestone.

Bruce pulls away first. We spend a few moments gazing lovingly at one another before I pull my hands back. He follows along. I notice Alfred still standing in place away from the table, absolutely beaming with pride. I give him an appreciative—not to mention slightly embarrassed—smile before I remember his other offering and suggest to Bruce that we not let our meal go to waste.

The younger man rises with a nod, turning around to thank Alfred before returning to his own seat. At the same time, the elder man moves the third plate in front of me. He gives me an encouraging pat on the shoulder before taking the empty plate and unneeded dinner covers, leaving behind—of course—the box for my new engagement ring.

Our meal is peaceful, though I can't shake my awareness of a newfound desire for the man across the table from me. Our dinner stands in the way, but I want to wrap my arms around him, embrace him, and kiss him for as long as we both can stand—_something_ more than a consenting "yes" to thank him for baring his emotions once more and offering me the chance to become a fixture in his life and offering himself as a fixture in my own. A growing part of me even wants to leap across the table, tackle him to the floor, and claim him in the most intimate of ways.

About halfway through dinner, I realize I've found my own distraction, my attention drawn inevitably back to the new piece of jewelry that adorns my finger, the symbol of everything between us thus far and the promise of what will soon come to be. It catches my eye with nearly every movement of my left hand. I can feel the smile spread across my face as I look at it. I often turn my hand and flatten my palm to the table to get a better look at it.

"It's bezel-set," Bruce finally notes. I look up with curiosity. His comment clicks after a moment and I look back down at the context. "The band of the ring is platinum. The oval diamond in the middle is one and a half carat. The four round diamonds set into the band on either side are a third of a carat each." I nearly chuckle at his explanation. It sounds as dry as a laundry list. "It's pretty small, but still, I hope you don't mind the design on the bevel around the oval one. They called it 'Greek Key.' I figured it'd be appropriate, but I had the embossing kept light so it wouldn't distract from the rest of the ring."

I smirk for a moment, then relax my lips into a warm smile as I lift my attention to Bruce. "It's beautiful, Bruce." He lets a few breaths pass in silence.

"I'm glad," he finally replies. "I could have always picked out something bigger or gaudier—and for a few moments, I did consider a few others—but I didn't really think you'd have been any more impressed if I'd given you a ring that cost more or was showier. Regardless, this style and the materials should make the ring more durable. I won't claim it'll be able to take any real abuse, but I'd like to think it won't shatter on the first punch…"

I laugh heartily. While leaning back in my chair and sinking into its cushion a little, I straighten my fingers, lifting them and my palm from the table to look at the ring again. "I'll do my best to safeguard it, Bruce. Don't worry about that."

He gives a little hum of knowing acknowledgment before another lull in conversation sweeps across the dining table. We continue to eat for a short while longer, both of us nearly finishing before Bruce speaks up again. "Any ideas on how you'd like to handle this moving forward? I don't mean to start planning the wedding, per se, but we probably should notify a few people here and there…things like that."

My eyes go wide and I look at Bruce across the table. "Oh, great Hera! I have to tell Mother, don't I?" There's an anxiousness to my tone that I didn't really expect, but that somehow doesn't surprise me at all to hear. My fiancé picks up on it as well, I see him tense.

"I'll…leave that entirely up to you." He pauses briefly. "I actually had relatively closer friends and acquaintances in mind…"

I see his meaning and give a relieved sigh in response. "Good! I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to have that conversation..." I pause to consider. "Well, I'll definitely need to tell Audrey and I can certainly handle the Watchtower. After all, I don't think Bruce Wayne will be making any appearances in orbit. Maybe we could have a little rendezvous at the Metro Tower?"

Despite the approval on his expression, his silence catches me more. "What'd you have in mind, Bruce?"

He leans back in his chair, looks out the windows behind me over my left shoulder. "I was thinking it might finally be time to do that TV interview for Summer Gleeson." His eyes return to me inquisitively at the end of his sentence.

"Bruce…a newspaper is one thing, but I don't know if I want to be on TV…"

"Diana, you're Wonder Woman. I'm Bruce Wayne. It's going to happen sooner rather than later on its own. Kent won't have anything to complain about since we'll be the focus, not any political or societal beliefs we may have. Add to that, we might be interrupted by a commercial break or two if it lasts long enough, but Summer will interview us live, so it'll be a lot harder for her to pull our words out of context than it was for Lois."

I fold my arms against my chest, look down to the table as I consider. Lois's picking and choosing of our comments had irked me far more than I'd have expected. Granted, it was nothing but minor details, but it was still upsetting to be misrepresented like that. If I knew about it in advance, I probably wouldn't have bothered joining Bruce for the interview. Still, I smile. The rest of the day, on the other hand, had certainly been worth the trip.

"Alright, Bruce, I'll think about it. In the meantime, though, we should probably let the other founders in on the news. I'd certainly like to tell Kal, J'onn, and Shayera myself."

"We have a founders' meeting tomorrow evening. We can announce it to everyone together then. If you'd like to tell the three of them yourself, you'll have to find them beforehand."

"Well, that shouldn't be too difficult. Aside from missions, I'll be up on the Watchtower all day anyhow. I'm bound to run into them by the end of the day." A thought occurs to me. "What about you, Bruce? Were you planning to let me do all the work?"

"Hardly. I just have fewer people to talk to," he replies. He straightens a little in his chair when he sees that his answer isn't enough. "Leslie Thompson, Dick, Tim, and Barbara, of course." My eyes widen in disbelief, but Bruce continues regardless. "I wouldn't exactly call myself close to many people in the League, but I'll tell Zatanna, so don't worry about her. Also, Bruce Wayne is good friends with Commissioner Gordon, so I'll let him know as well. A few, I'm sure, will be interested to meet you in person…"

I wait for him to say more and, after a moment, he does break the short silence. "You should also know that Jim Gordon all but knows who Batman is. Thanks to an incident with Scarecrow a few years back, Barbara decided to tell her father about her double life. He stopped her before she could say anything, but she's sure it was because he already knew. By extension, he probably knows about Tim, Dick, and I as well. I think you should meet him once we work out a costume for you. He's a smart man and a good cop. I'm sure he'll put things together without a confirming word between us."

I see that he's done talking. I can't say I'm surprised that he hasn't addressed my sole concern regarding his plans. "That's all well and good, Bruce, but do you mean to tell me that you only told Alfred what you were planning to do tonight?"

He smiles seemingly despite himself. "You and Alfred both…" I eye him with curiosity, silently demanding an explanation. "He thinks I should have already told the three of them, too."

"Well…certainly Tim, since _he lives here_." Neither of us speak for a short while, so I take it upon myself to continue our conversation. "Out of curiosity, why didn't you say anything to them?"

"Would you be angry if I said I second guessed myself and I wasn't sure if something might hold you back?"

I pause, for a few breaths unable to answer. My mouth falls into a frown. "Well, not anymore, clearly, but…for long enough, it wouldn't have been so easy a choice for me to make," I admit. "It was mostly early on, but even after all my efforts and for every push I made to bring us together, when it finally came to be, Mother's lectures about men and Man's World still surfaced in my mind.

"You called it uncharted waters when we danced at Gotham Delizioso. Well, that's sort of how I felt, too." I smile at Bruce. "I still think about it from time to time, but now it's not so much of a complaint, or a warning, or something that angers me. Now, it's something that surprises me, amazes me… I mean, to think that I could find happiness in one whom I was raised to distrust and hold at arm's length…"

Bruce's expression warms while, from behind him, I see Alfred come back in. He fetches our emptied plates, trading them for our desserts: a strawberry parfait for each of us. We both thank Alfred and pick up our spoons as he then departs. I pick up one of the strawberry halves and lift it away from atop the stylized glass before looking across the table at my fiancé.

I give an impressed hum to get his attention. "I didn't realize you had such a sweet tooth, Bruce."

He pauses, pulls the spoon from his mouth, chews for a few moments, then swallows. "Well, normally I don't have so many, but… Well, considering the circumstances, I don't see why I shouldn't join in the celebrations."

We share a smile before I take my own first bite. It's nothing but strawberry and cream, but even that is delicious. I can't help myself and hum a moan of delight. Bruce chuckles.

"Don't laugh, Bruce," I jest, "or I might just have to tell Wally that the _great _and_ fearsome_ Batman likes strawberry parfaits and blueberry pie."

"Blackmail already, Diana?" Bruce laughs again, then smirks as he goes for another spoonful of his dessert. "We haven't even gotten married yet. Don't you think we're getting ahead of ourselves?"

We share another quick laugh before finishing our desserts. Alfred joins us afterwards, seating himself and again congratulating us on the milestone. When I ask why he didn't join us earlier, he simply replies that he wished to grant us at least a few moments of peace to ourselves, a chance to eat, talk, and bask in the moment.

He then turns the conversation around to us, eager to learn if we've made any plans yet. Bruce comments that it may be a little early to start worrying about ceremonies and the like, but does tell him that we plan to tell those closest to us. He also mentions the still tentative plan for a television interview. I almost wish that he hadn't, but at least I know that he and Summer have never been romantically involved.

It isn't too much longer before we leave the dining hall, Alfred with the dishes to clean up, Bruce and I to spend a little time together in the living room before he must leave to join Tim and Barbara in Gotham. Bruce, of course, insists on saving the preparations for my debut on Gotham's streets for another time.

We seat ourselves on a couch, facing the windows and the night sky beyond. From his seat to my right, Bruce reaches around behind me almost immediately. His left hand soon finds mine and he intertwines our fingers as he takes hold. He would pull me closer if not for my own action, leaning in first in my own quest for his kiss.

Our lips come together with a gentle passion, our enthusiasm channeled mostly to our free right hands. Mine quickly finds Bruce's left upper leg. I begin to almost absently rub my hand across the fabric covering him, every so often teasing my fingers along the inside of his thigh. My fiancé, meanwhile, reaches across us both, wrapping his fingers around the outside of my left knee.

He pulls my legs in towards his, lifting them only high enough to put my knees over the end of his left leg, just below my hand's range. With my legs where he wants them, his hand roams up my leg. I groan against his lips when he cups his hand over my backside and gives my rear a firm, kneading squeeze. It doesn't last long and his hand soon starts traveling up. It slips under my blouse and I'm intimately aware as his fingers cross over from the waist of my slacks to the bare skin of my side.

He draws my attention back up as he captures my lower lip, his own quickly giving way to administer a gentle nibble before he pulls away. "Diana…" he whispers. I reply with an inquiring hum as his lips press back against me. His left hand releases mine and he plants it behind me on the cushion. I understand why soon after, when he begins moving the both of us.

His left hand soon slips from my side and his right moves around to my back. I let him continue as I feel myself being leaned carefully down. Finally, my head comes to rest on the cushion close enough to feel the arm against my hair. Bruce and I adjust our legs, practically weaving them together as he lowers himself atop me, sinking his left knee in between the seat cushion and the couch's back.

The change in position gives me something new to do with my hands and I quickly set about working my way past the jacket and shirt covering his chest. His own hands adjust as well. He works his left around behind me, centering it between my shoulders and holding himself over me on his elbow. His right he keeps against my skin, gliding it back and forth across my lower back before bringing it around towards my stomach.

My skin tingles at his touch, especially as his fingertips play at my sides and pass around to my front. Even as I delight in Bruce's attention, a little streak of Amazonian pride runs through the back of my head and I decide that I want to be the one on top and in control of our pace. So, without any great difficulty, I move my hands to his sides and roll us over.

Unfortunately, in my haste, I forget the dimensions of the couch. Almost immediately, we begin to roll off the couch and onto the floor. I manage to subconsciously catch myself, effortlessly beginning to float. My eyes flash open as Bruce slips from my grasp. He lands with a grunt before his legs slowly slip apart from mine.

"…Ow," he mutters after a moment. He opens his eyes and looks up at me with bewilderment. I look back with regretful apology.

I reach towards him, lower my knees to the floor on either side of his hips. "Bruce—I'm sorry! I…I didn't mean to drop you like that…"

"So, then…what _were_ you trying to do?" I'm glad to realize he isn't angry, only curious, maybe even slightly amused. Honestly, I'm a little amazed he isn't angry.

I can't hold his gaze and I avert my eyes before answering. "I…wanted to be the one on top…"

Bruce chuckles, pulls me down against his chest. "Better?" he asks with a bit of humor.

I nod, give him a brief kiss. "But I think I ruined the mood…"

"It's alright, Diana. It's probably for the best." His grip relaxes as he speaks and I take the hint, straddling his waist and lifting myself over his chest on my hands.

He stares at me for a few moments in silence. I begin to feel a little self-conscious under his gaze, especially when his eyes travel down my body and then back up to my face. He must see it in my eyes, because he quickly begins to sit up. I make room for him, moving to my right and standing as he does the same.

We turn to one another when we're both on our feet again and his hands find their way to my waist. I weave my own hands in under his arms to hold him in similar fashion and at the same time, Bruce leans in for another kiss.

"I can't thank you enough. I love you, Diana," he whispers just before our lips meet. I let him kiss me before I take the opportunity to thank him for proposing to me and then reply to his endearment in kind. We kiss once more, but afterwards, Bruce rests his forehead against mine. I open my eyes for a moment, see his are closed and that there's a contented smile on his lips.

I begin to close my eyes as well when Bruce sighs. The smile falls from his mouth and a moment later, he notes, "I should probably get ready and head out."

I feel a sense of guilt. "Bruce…it's a little early, isn't it? I didn't mean to ruin the whole evening."

"I know, Diana. I know—"

"How about we both go to the cave, begin work on my costume?"

I feel Bruce slacken, but before long he sighs and relents. "Alright, sure. Let's go."

As Bruce releases me and begins to turn, disappointment over the apparent end to the romantic side of our evening is quickly replaced by a giddy excitement. I take his hand and walk with him as he heads down to the Batcave by way of the study. By the time he leaves for tonight's patrol, I'll be at least one step closer to my goal of joining him on Gotham's streets.

We get down to the cave and Bruce wastes no time sitting down at the Batcomputer. With the general lack of proper extra seating, I seat myself on the left arm of Bruce's chair, my legs hanging off towards the floor beside it. He crosses his left arm over my lap without complaint to reach the controls. The screen comes to life and with some typing and a few button presses, I'm looking at an image of myself standing tall in my full Wonder Woman armor.

I begin turning back to Bruce, ready to ask when and where he got such a picture. "_Don't_ pretend to be surprised," he says before I can speak. I finally lay eyes on him. He isn't even looking at me. I open my mouth again. He cuts me off again. "Yes, there is a file on each and every one of us. Criminals and persons of interest, too." I open my mouth to try once more. "No, I'm not psychic, I just have a lot of experience reading people."

I reach around and slap his left shoulder. "Stop that!" I exclaim with a chuckle. I shake my head as my laughter calms and I turn back to the Batcomputer's screen.

"Coincidentally, I already have a Batwoman costume we can use as a template…" His hands dance about the controls. Before long, sections of the image of me flash, one at a time covered until I am totally hidden. Where my image stood is a clearly female Batman in my exact shape. There are a few notable differences in the outfit, certainly—it isn't even quite like Barbara's Batgirl costume—but the look is undeniable.

There isn't an inch of bare skin visible from head to toe. The suit itself, like Batman's, is gray, though it's a far lighter shade. The bat symbol on the chest is pink, as are the gauntlets—in stark contrast to the yellow of Batgirl's outfit and the black of Batman's. Only the utility belt remains the proper golden yellow of Batman, Robin, and Batgirl's costumes.

The cowl has white lenses, like Batman, but they're much larger. If I didn't know better, I'd say the mouth appears to have black lipstick, but maybe it's from the lips of whomever this "template" came from. Regardless, the cape has tips, like Batman's and Batgirl's, but is only knee-length, much more like Robin's. Either way, the cape is too small, not nearly capable of concealing a person's arms, as Batman often does with his.

"Well…" I begin after a few moments of silence, "that's going to have to change…" Bruce gives a hum of agreement to my nonspecific comment. _'I didn't think he was the one who came up with this suit…'_ His left hand leaves the computer controls, his arm settling against my lap and his hand wrapping over my side. He begins to rub his thumb against me, my blouse dragging along back and forth with his motions. "Let's get the hard one out of the way first, Bruce. Where'd this 'template' come from?"

His thumb immediately stops and his fingers give a single twitch, their grip tightening for the briefest of moments. He waits before answering me aloud. "Granted they were all at the same time, but after Tim joined me and _long_ before the League, there were three Batwomen."

I turn back, nearly ask if I'm allowed to be surprised by this bit of news. "Before you ask, they had nothing to do with me."

"I figured that much out," I interject.

Bruce continues apace, almost as if I hadn't spoken. "They needed to mask their real identities and chose to make their own adaptation of Batman. They wore three identical costumes to throw me off their trail. It worked for a little while…

"Regardless, they weren't looking to fight crime so much as they were looking to target a few key people in Gotham's underworld. I made sure their careers didn't last long. Unfortunately, it all ended in a confrontation with Bane, a fight that I don't exactly recall _fondly_…"

"Who's Bane?"

Bruce looks up at me pensively. "What do you know of the criminals in Gotham?"

"I…imagine not as much as I thought. I admit I've done some research about Gotham and a few names have come up…but I guess I've never seen or met any myself, aside from Joker when we all fought Luthor's original Injustice Gang."

"Then you'll need to study my files before you go out." I look back at Bruce with disbelief. "We still haven't gone over my rules, Diana, so just remember, you agreed to handle this my way." My expression falls neutral. He certainly has me there. "Gotham's criminals are not to be taken lightly. Physical prowess will get _even you_ only so far in this city. Criminals here often rely on the mind of their adversaries. I worry about two in particular with you: Jonathan Crane and Jervis Tetch."

Bruce's hand leaves my side and he begins typing again. I turn back as two criminal files fill the left and right halves of the screen. "Ok, I recognize Scarecrow."

"Jonathan Crane, formerly a professor of psychology at Gotham University. His greatest obsession in life is fear, how people experience it and what causes it. His chief weapon is a gaseous hallucinogen which plunges its victims into their own worst nightmares, fear toxin. Harmless nothings quickly transform into the direst of threats in the victim's mind."

Bruce shifts his attention and mine to the second profile. "Jervis Tetch, The Mad Hatter, formerly a neuroscientist at Wayne Enterprises. He is obsessed with Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland and hats. His criminal persona draws from the book's character of the same name. His goal is to find and possess his very own ideal Alice. For his crimes, he draws upon his research, employing mind-control hats that turn unsuspecting victims into mindless puppets for him to use as he desires.

"As an added bonus, he once tried to keep me from interfering with his plans altogether by trapping me in a dream world, a fantasy that catered to my every desire." He pauses, his tone dropping down to something much quieter. "Probably something similar to what I'd have eventually seen if I'd been under the Black Mercy's power for as long as Clark must have been…"

I turn back, lift my left hand to place my palm against his chest in a show of sympathy. He speaks up just as my palm comes into contact. "I haven't mentioned this yet, but you should know that while I was under the Black Mercy's spell, I saw myself in the alley with my parents. My father was fighting the mugger off. When you pulled that…that _thing_ off my chest and called for me, the fantasy came crashing down around me. It wasn't a sudden stop, either. It took long enough for the mugger to shoot my father."

My heart sinks as I remember what I bore witness to in Park Row. "Bruce…I'm sorry."

"No. Don't apologize, Diana. I only think you should know what happened. I've known since long before I first entered Hatter's dream world: it's better to live in the here and now than a fantasy." To emphasize the point, his hand finds my side again and he pulls me closer along the chair's arm.

I end the short silence that follows when it seems Bruce isn't going to. "What about Mad Hatter and Scarecrow has you worried for me?"

"Two things. First, if Scarecrow hits you with his fear gas or if Hatter manages to somehow get one of his hats on you…who knows what you might do or be forced to do against your will…" I begin to open my mouth, but Bruce lifts his eyes to mine with a glare that will accept no interruption. "Second!" I stop, startled. Bruce relaxes.

"If that happens, or if for any other reason you display your Amazonian strength and someone—Scarecrow, Hatter, Joker, Two-Face, Penguin, Mr. Freeze, any thug or any bystander—_anyone_ figures out who you are…" His voice rises with each name, the words coming faster until he finally trails off. He relaxes again. His voice falls to barely a whisper. "…it jeopardizes everything."

There's but a single question floating about my mind. It doesn't take long for it to reach my lips. "Then why are you letting me join you on patrol?" As the words escape me, my mind rephrases. "If those are the stakes, then how is it worth the risk?"

"I can prepare for contingencies. I can make sure you're inoculated to the fear gas, install air filters in the nose to keep it from reaching your lungs, or at least build a small enough delivery mechanism into your suit to keep you from losing yourself to it. Hatter's hats can be defended against." Bruce quiets once more. "And it may not sound like it, but I am confident in your fighting abilities. You're your own first line of defense and that alone will be worth more to you than anything I could engineer."

I smile, almost despite myself. Then again, I guess I shouldn't be surprised that his words—whether meant as a compliment or not—could bring me any such joy and pride. I start to thank him, but he lifts his eyes to me again, stopping me with the concern, the worry in his eyes. "But more than anything, Diana, if the changes of late to the dreams mean anything about our future, then when things go south, I'd rather be with you than without you."

I can't deny him that. The dreams are what made me think to ask in the first place. Granted, to begin with, it was less about safety and more about my own wants. I agree, nodding without thinking. "Same for me."

Before long, I shake my head and refocus, ready to set myself and my husband-to-be back on the path of costume design. He smiles a little too broadly when I ask if we can begin. "Of course, but only if you'll indulge me while we work."

"What?" There's a hint of trepidation to my tone as I hope to myself he doesn't ask for anything too inconvenient. Almost as soon as I speak, Bruce's hands are on my waist.

I can't stifle a tiny, surprised yelp when he pulls me off the chair's arm. I land almost gently in his lap and his hands glide down, past my hips. I can't decide if he's looking for the contact or if he's just helping straighten my legs as his hands move slowly to the outsides of my thighs and he helps turn me towards the Batcomputer.

I catch myself wishing it'd been for the contact when his hands leave my legs. I give him a pass when he wraps his arms over my stomach, pulling my back to his chest and leaning enough to look over my left shoulder. "I hope this isn't too uncomfortable for you, Princess, but I don't exactly keep extra chairs down here."

A mischievous grin crosses my lips. "Uncomfortable?" I move my hands to the chair's arms. With my grip secured, I press my rear firmly against Bruce's lap, let my lower back bend side to side as I rub myself against him to settle in. "No, I think I'll be fine." I hold the grin on my face a little longer as I turn back, drop my chin to my collarbone, and look sidelong at Bruce over my shoulder. "How about you, Bruce? This won't be an…_inconvenience_, will it?"

Bruce clears his throat with something between embarrassment and nervousness, maybe with a hint of guilt if the slight twitch I felt through the seat of my pants is what I suspect. He clears it again just when I think he's going to say something. "I thought we were designing a Batsuit."

I give a chuckle in response, then turn forward again. I reach towards the computer controls, but I hesitate. Thankfully, Bruce's hands leave my stomach and he reaches forward to help guide my hands, not skipping the chance to glide his hands down my sleeves and wrap his hands over mine in a surprisingly sensual way. The gentle heat of his breath on my neck and the kiss he plants on my warmed skin helps.

Finally, our hands in place, Bruce teaches me how to manipulate the overlaying Batsuit. "Keep in mind that you'll need to look the part, Diana. Still, I think it's important for you to be happy with your appearance. Change the design to something you're comfortable with and we'll see how it looks. Just…at a minimum, your face stays covered at least as much as mine and nothing that indicates you're a moonlighting Wonder Woman."

I turn back a little. "So I can't I keep my bracelets even if they're covered by the suit?"

He considers for a few moments. "Fine. They'll be excellent defense against melee weapons, but only use them as a last defense against bullets, not the first. I'll work something out with the suit's forearms to keep them hidden."

I give him my thanks and then turn forward again, getting to work as his hands retreat slowly back up my arms. He settles them again on my stomach as I focus myself in adjusting colors and shapes. As time wears on, I find myself getting a lot done, even despite the best efforts of his bored, absolutely devilish hands.

Finally finished, I turn back to Bruce. "What do you think?" I ask with enthusiasm.

His eyes follow me as I move, shifting towards the Batcomputer as I finish. "I don't see any problems with it. Have to admit, though, it looks quite familiar. Sort of figured you'd go for something a little less…dark."

I smile, reach back with my left hand to Bruce's head. At the same time, I turn just enough to gently kiss my fiancé. "Well," I begin as I settle back into his lap, "I figured that I'm soon going to be Mrs. Wayne, so why not Mrs. Batman, too?" Bruce looks back with disbelief, making me laugh.

It takes me a few moments to calm. "Well, how about utility, then? The cape, if nothing else, will help me in stealth. It's about inspiring fear, right? I know it isn't exactly my modus operandi, but I thought that a longer cape would make it easier to hide myself underneath, as you often do. Better yet, I can bend my knees, lift my feet up a little, and float just off the ground. I'm sure that'll scare someone, right?"

"We'll see, Princess, we'll see." He turns back to the screen in front of us, beginning to slowly rub his hands against my sides. "Well, regardless, this'll be the outer layer. Underneath, you'll have a Kevlar-based armor, same as my own suit. It _will_ be enough to stop a bullet, but don't ever let yourself rely on it.

"The boots, gauntlets, cape, and the cowl's hood will all be made of the same materials as mine. You'll be able to glide using your cape, the same as the rest of us. To incorporate your bracelets, I was thinking that the suit's sleeves should be long enough to cover them for a first time, with the gauntlets' sleeves long enough to cover them a second time, but we'll see how it works and adjust as needed.

"The utility belt's another matter. You'll need it in lieu of your lasso. Generally speaking, it'll be equipped much the same as mine, Tim's, or Barbara's. We'll help to familiarize you with your new arsenal soon. Probably have all the materials and things here already. It'll just take some time to make everything."

His hands finally slow to a stop. "How often did you plan on joining me in Gotham?"

"Oh." I pause. "I guess not all the time, maybe just a couple hours a night every so often. I really don't want to give up being myself, being Wonder Woman, though."

"Wouldn't ask it."

I smile thankfully at the implicit promise. "Like I said, I want to fight with you, help make Gotham a better place, but there's still a larger world I need to be sure not to forget."

"I'm sure you'll find the time. However, I do hope you don't find it selfish of me to want some time in between Wonder Woman and Batwoman, in between Bruce Wayne and Batman to just be Bruce and Diana."

I smile again, turning to better face my fiancé. "Not at all." I envelop Bruce in my arms as best I can without leaving my seat in his lap, kiss him tenderly. "That's the sort of selfishness I wanted to see…"

He pulls me in before either of us can say more, kisses me with passion. I feel his hand on my legs again, pulling my knees to my left, the same direction I turned my shoulders. When he's done, his gentle pull gives way to a sensual caress as his left hand works its way all about my legs. His right he lifts behind me, up to the back of my head and into the roots of my hair as we kiss again and again at one another's lips.

My heart seems to pick up and jump with each new touch of Bruce's lips, the occasional nibble on my lower lip, the teasing touch of his tongue, and for everything I do to match his affections. Eventually, though, Bruce manages to bring me back down, relaxing and calming me. His kisses become less pronounced and his caresses gradually become long, slow, gentle strokes.

Though my heart no longer feels about to burst forth from my chest as it did during our earlier passions, our slower, more relaxed kisses are satisfying in quite a similar way. "I…" I interrupt myself to let our lips come back together, our eyes still closed as we move in sync with one another. "take it…" Another kiss. "you need…" Once more before I'll be done speaking. "to go soon."

"Yes," he answers succinctly after another kiss. I follow his lead and our lips come together in a slightly more open-mouthed kiss, our jaws then closing, lips gliding deliciously against one another before we begin anew. He lets more than a few pass while he makes no effort to move or separate us.

"Don't…" Now it's his turn to speak between kisses. "wait up…" One kiss, then he chases me back for a quick second. "Tomorrow will…" I hold our next kiss for longer than those before it, savoring him before letting him continue. "probably be…" He teases me, pulling back at the last second, smiling when I open my eyes and look immediately to his lips. "enough trouble…" He comes back, kisses me twice to repay the short-lived debt. "just from telling people…" A little confused, I pause until his lips are on mine again. "about us."

I lean back. "Why would that be troublesome?"

He pauses at the confusion on my expression. "Maybe trouble isn't the right word. What I mean is that we'll be in the middle of a lot of attention. Sometimes, other people's excitement can be exhausting."

"Well..." My right hand goes to Bruce's hair, I play my fingers absently along the edge of his hairline, occasionally working them deeper into his hair. "I thought this was supposed to be exciting," I finish in an almost sultry whisper.

"If you don't mind, Diana, I'd prefer to be excited together with you in private."

I laugh again. "I noticed," I reply at last, trailing my left hand down his chest towards his lap. I give him one last kiss as I bring my hand to rest just above the waistline of his pants.

When we separate after, I lift myself from his lap, floating over the left chair arm and standing tall beside him. Bruce follows me up, embracing me quickly.

He wraps his hands around to my spine. His right travels up to my shoulder blades. His left drops down toward my waist. I give a little start when he reaches further and dips his fingers into my pants as much on the swell of my backside as on the outside of my left hip. He kisses me before I can react, but he ends it all just as quickly.

Before I know it, his hands have left me and he is stepping away. "Sleep well, Princess."

I lift my left hand to the back of my hip, where Bruce's had been a moment ago. "...Good luck out there." After a moment composing myself, I add, "I love you, Bruce."

He stops, already nearly to the display cases and his Batsuit. He turns back with a gentle, affectionate smile. "I love you, too, Diana."

My smile broadens and I give a tiny nod in reply. I lift my hands as I watch him retrieve the suit, folding them under my bust. He rounds the corner, disappearing for a surprisingly short minute, and reemerging as Batman, his cowl's hood still pushed back behind his head.

He lifts a hand towards the Batmobile and I can barely see a tiny remote in between his thumb and fingers. The iconic vehicle rumbles to life as the canopy slides open. He stops his slow, deliberate walk toward it, turns back to me. "And, Diana?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

I'm sure I know what he means, but I still lift my left hand to just below my chin, hold my ringed finger straight while letting the rest drop back toward my palm. "Thank you, too, Bruce."

Within a breath, the cowl is in place and Batman climbs into his car. The canopy closes and almost immediately after, the car is in motion. Car and man speed off, leaving the cave and I behind.

There's an undeniable disappointment at his departure. I look again to the Batcomputer and remember that I'll soon be free to join him.

Before I can linger much longer, I head back up to the manor, meeting Alfred in the study. I inform him that his charge just left and he thanks me before heading down to retrieve Bruce's daytime clothing. I turn to retire after announcing my intention.

"Miss Diana?" Alfred stops me just after I step past him. I turn back to more politely address the elder man. "I trust Master Bruce has expressed his thanks more than just what I've seen, but if you'll grant me the opportunity to thank you as well." I give him my sincere thanks, well aware of his own role in the evening. "And, of course, congratulations. I'm sure beyond all doubt that you'll be perfect for one another."

I thank him again and turn, assuming him finished. "Oh!" he then exclaims, as though just remembering something important. Knowing him, I imagine it was intentional. "If you wouldn't mind indulging an old man, please allow me to be the first to say, though admittedly a little prematurely..."

"Yes, Alfred?" I ask at his silent prompt, probably too curious for my own good what he means to tell me.

He puffs up, filling with pride. "Welcome home, Mrs. Wayne."

My eyes widen and my cheeks immediately flush red. "Th-thank you, Alfred!" I stammer embarrassedly, turning my head towards the nearest window.

He smiles, clearly finding humor in my reaction. "Have a good night, then, Miss Diana."

I nod and turn quickly away. I get all the way up to my bedroom before I realize that the obsessively proper Alfred had been unable to hold in a chuckle at my expense. I can't find reason to blame him.

Behind my room's closed door, I try to relax. My first thought is to get back into my normal routine, so I head to the bathroom and start by brushing my teeth. When I'm done in the bathroom, I return to my bedroom and find myself drawn inexplicably to the window.

I move a chair closer and seat myself. I look out toward Gotham and, for a few minutes, lose myself staring into the night. I come back down from my reverie when a tone in my ear alerts me to an incoming communique.

"Green Arrow to Wonder Woman."

I bring my hand to my ear. "Wonder Woman here. What is it, Arrow?" I ask.

"I really hate to do this, but I'm going to need to call in that favor sooner rather than later. I need you to cover my shift tomorrow."

I sigh. "Alright. What shift?"

"Tomorrow morning, six to noon. _Please_ don't tell me you already have plans with Wayne."

I lean back in the chair, tip my head back over the top of it. "No, it's fine. I was planning on going to sleep soon anyhow."

"Oh, good! Thanks a lot! Real sorry about the short notice, kind of a last minute decision."

I understand the meaning. "Relax." He's probably with Dinah. "I understand."

"Thanks again. Green Arrow out."

"Wonder Woman out."

I turn back to the window. Soon, I see a light appear in the sky. I narrow my eyes and focus on it until I recognize the shape. _'The Batsignal!'_ I watch until the light vanishes just as suddenly as it appeared. _'Bruce must have arrived…'_

I give my fiancé a few more moments of my thoughts, trusting him to stay safe and sure that he and his 'soldiers,' as he has sometimes likened them to, would be capable of protecting one another. A little more self-reassured, I smile and rise to my feet. As I turn away and walk towards my laundry hamper, I begin stripping off my clothing.

After dropping my undergarments into the basket when I'm at last nude, I turn my attention to my bed. Once I've quickly crossed the room, I lift the edge of the covers and slip gracefully between the layers of soft fabric.

As I settle into my comfortable bed, I remember that, though I am nude, I am still wearing one thing. I lift my hands together, peeking them out from beneath the top edge of the sheet just enough to see my fingers. My vision focuses on the engagement ring I now sport and I notice the familiar sensation of my lips spread in a broad smile.

I remember the effort I made to push Bruce from my mind. _'Well…I guess it isn't so bad if I'm not worrying about him…'_ With my own permission thanks to the slight redefinition of my original intent, I drop my hands back to my chest, putting my left hand over my heart and cupping my right hand atop it.

The evening—_our _evening—replays over and over again in my mind. Memories of the kisses, the embraces, and the caresses we shared excite me far more than I should allow when I'm trying to get to sleep. I remember dropping Bruce, accidental as it was. I think of it as an observer instead of as a participant and cannot help but let an amused giggle escape me.

Eventually, I sigh, letting my head and heart overflow with love and relief. Soon, I push the memories aside and recommit myself to sleep, confident that if nothing else, I will never forget Bruce's proposal. The effort pays off and, before long, I begin to feel myself slipping into Morpheus's realm.

I awake to a dark room and movement in my bed. I can feel that I'm still heavily sleep-addled. "Hmm?" I hum in a mix of protest and curiosity.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up, Princess."

"It's alright." I begin to slowly wake up. "How was your patrol?"

He lets the covers go and they fall down to cover his nude body. "No problems. A few muggings, an attempted murder, and some assaults. Nothing major."

Bruce settles in beside me and I roll onto my side, opening my arms almost reflexively, inviting him closer. He lifts himself, moves over me. I turn onto my back again as he centers himself above, enclose him in my arms as he drops down. Our legs mix further down the bed and his chest presses down against my breasts. His hands work their way behind my back and he holds me tight while lowering his lips to mine.

We moan our enjoyment for one another's benefit, then I laugh, muffled by his lips. I run my hands down along his back, then take firm hold of his well-muscled hindquarters. I feel him twitch against my stomach and I reply with a sexually charged chuckle against his lips. He breaks our kiss, lifts his head away.

I move my hands around to his hips. Looking up, I can see his face just well enough to read his expression in the moonlight. "Why, Bruce, I was going to ask how tired you were…" I gently urge his hips upwards with my right hand, reach in between our bodies to grip him with my left. "…but I think _this_ answers my question…"

He manages to maintain his control, carefully lifts his left leg and joins it with his right in the space between my own. "Is that so?" He leans up a little, balancing himself over me as he reaches for my bare sides. I relax under the gentle touch of the hands that know me too well.

"Then I suppose you wouldn't mind if took the liberty of..." His hands travel upwards as he trails off. I hum contentedly as his hands reach my chest and he begins to trace around the edges of my breasts with the tips of his fingers. Suddenly, his hands jump out to my sides and none other than the undisguised Batman begins to tickle me mercilessly.

I can't help myself. I laugh. I squirm between his hands. His harmless torture robs me of my strength, leaving me unable to defend myself and push his hands away. I near enough shout his name. I try to twist back and forth to escape, but he follows my every movement.

After an eternity, he abruptly stops. I take a deep breath, open my eyes to stare back at him and try to think of an equally playful way to retaliate. He doesn't give me the opportunity, leaning his head back down and taking my lips.

Again, I cannot help myself. The occasional annoyance aside, there is no denying that I love this man with all my heart. I moan against his lips as the fires of passion reignite within me. I wrap my arms around him high on his torso. His hands come back to my sides and for a moment, I fear he will torture me again. He saves himself from a world of hurt in the morning, instead journeying his hands up to cup my breasts.

It lasts but a single breath before he lifts his palms away. His fingertips never leave me, soon beginning a sensual rub across my chest, sometimes lifting away all but entirely, so that the very tips of his fingers glide back and forth across my tingling skin. I reward his efforts every so often with a moan against his lips, all but a rare few unbidden.

Finally, I decide I'm done waiting. I pull my hands around to the edges of his back and give a sharp, pointed hum against him. He stops, lifts his head from my lips. He regards me with curiosity and equal parts love and rapture. "Bruce…" I whisper, letting our context complete my meaning.

He smiles, replies with a small nod. He leans back and sits on his heels, his knees below my thighs as I bend my legs for him. He aligns our hips and rests his hands atop my thighs. He strokes me for a few moments, makes me wait. His hands go to the undersides of my knees and he lifts them a little higher.

At the last second, he lifts my knees from the mattress. He straightens my legs, holds them upright in front of his face, and leans close. I feel his warm breath on my left calf. He lifts his hands to grip my ankles and I'm dimly aware as he maneuvers my legs while his mouth drifts over my skin, warming my legs with the air from deep within his lungs.

At last, he plants a gentle kiss on my heel, the other receiving his attention immediately after. He skips over where his fingers enclose my ankles and begins to plant gentle, random kisses all about my calves. His lips eventually reach the backs of my knees and I gasp.

I squeeze my eyes shut. _'Stop it, Diana! Don't let him see what he's doing to you!'_ With a few more mental words, I convince myself if he can't see the effect he's having on me, he'll stop and answer my real desire. I lift my left hand to my face, try to control my voice by gripping my annualry between my teeth at the first knuckle past my rings.

Bruce continues to pepper my legs with kisses. I get extra confirmation of my reactions when my bite on my finger tightens. I realize far too late that my toes and feet are curling and tightening when he kisses my more sensitive spots. It's a sure bet he knows, that he can feel the movements betray me through his firm grip on my ankles.

Finally, he spares me. He gives the backs of my knees one last kiss each, then spreads my legs apart, coaxing them slowly back down and into their previous position. He leans close again, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips to tell me my efforts to hide myself were in vain. I choose to wipe his expression clean in the best way available to me. I lift my hands to his cheeks, slide them back behind his ears, and pull his lips to mine.

His hands find my sides again and he glides them up, past my bottommost rib. He breaks his lips from mine and leans away. He rises slowly, his hands gliding back down to my hips as though to focus all of our attention and all of our energy on what comes next. He turns his gaze down between our bodies and realigns us with his left hand. I flatten my knees against the mattress, press my still sensitive calves to his lower back, and then take Bruce's hands in my own.

"I love you, Bruce." A whisper no less confident, no less sure for its softness.

"I love you, too, Diana." His reply is in kind, his voice and his words setting my heart aflutter as they always do. He turns his hands against mine, interlocking our fingers before beginning to gently press against me.

My eyes close of their own volition and he begins to pull my hands ever so slightly. I recognize his intent, but I still tighten my legs behind him to hurry him along. I feel myself begin to part for him and my eyes flash open in the ensuing rush of sensation.

_'How is it morning already?'_ I immediately ask myself as soon as my eyes open to the sun-lit ceiling. Then I notice the difference in sensation. A sheet and blanket cover me from the neck down. There is no man between my legs. I realize what has happened to me almost immediately. I lift my chin towards the ceiling and let loose a loud, frustrated groan.

As I begin to move my hands to the edge of my covers to throw them aside and stand, I notice something else. I pause, take note of my legs and find that the whole of my body is positioned just as it was at the end of my dream. My cheeks flush again and I scramble to lift my hands towards the edge of my covers.

I lift them up enough to look down my body and my embarrassment deepens. _'I cannot tell Bruce about this!'_ I want to be able to, want to tell him as my confidant, but I'm certain I won't be comfortable divulging such intimate details until we ourselves have had a real chance to be intimate.

Sighing, I try to push the arousing dream from my mind. I start by letting the covers drop back down to hide my body from my sight, then lift my hands to my forehead. Almost immediately, I feel my engagement ring against my eyebrow. I hold my fingers loose as I lower my right hand atop the bed sheets, gaze at my ring for a few moments in silence.

A part of me still can't believe myself for being so unabashedly happy about Bruce's proposal, so I focus on that train of thought. Memories of my mother's and sisters' lessons and testimony try to scream for attention in my mind, warning that this is how Man's World seeks to control me, seeks to tame me, but as I told Bruce, I've long since learned to see our progress as fortuitous and miraculous. Besides, I've figured out the sole flaw in life on Themyscira.

In a word, that flaw is me. Not to say that _I'm_ flawed, but I'm the proof it's true. Mother formed me from clay. That is why I was the first born on Themyscira since the gods granted the Amazons their protection. Yet in Man's World, children are literally born all the time. For all our paradise and prosperity, the Amazons lost something in isolation: romance and family. Instead we became static, an everlasting collection of close friends and constant companions.

Time and the bounds of life are of little motivation to those whose protection is guaranteed by the gods and who, in peace, may live forever. "You don't know what you have until it's gone…" I mutter, still staring at my ring. I feel that it's a little more difficult to cherish what you're in no danger of losing. That knowledge has always been in the back of my mind with Bruce.

I have no doubt that I will someday die in battle, falling to an enemy's blade or sacrificing myself for the sake of others. I simply do not know when my time will come. By comparison, Bruce will die far in advance. It's all but guaranteed. So I want to spend all the time I can with him. My mind goes back to my dream on the savanna. I want the children promised by it, the children that will prove our time together, that may even outlive us both, and that we may someday pass this world on to.

Thoughts of my dream drowned out for the time being and feeling a little more mentally prepared for my future—our future—I finally climb out of bed. First things first, I head for the bathroom. My first and, at the moment, only priority is the shower. I turn the water on and it quickly heats up to something comfortable. I step in a moment later, closing the glass door on my way inside. I can't help but luxuriate under the running water, facing away from the showerhead and letting it hit my head and shoulders to flow freely over my skin.

My thoughts return to my dream during the idle time under the water. When at last I feel I've wasted enough time on both, I distract myself by washing before stepping out and drying off. As soon as I'm done with the towel, I trade it for my robe.

When its gentle softness is wrapped snuggly around me, I head for the counter and begin my morning routine at the sink. Thanks to my rush to shower first, I have an excuse to keep the almost excessively comfortable robe on until I finally have nothing left but to put on my armor.

When I come out of my room, I find that only Alfred is awake. He insists on preparing breakfast for me. I take him up on the offer before heading up to the Watchtower, asking him as I leave to make sure Bruce remembers that we have a founders' meeting in the evening. I depart disappointed at missing him, but without the luxury of waiting for him to rise.

Aboard the Watchtower, I spend the morning covering Green Arrow's monitor duty shift. As luck would have it, Shayera is the one who relieves me.

"Hi, Diana," she greets with a hint of surprise as she approaches me and the monitor room's chair.

"Good morning, Shayera. Why are you here? We have a meeting this evening."

"I could ask you the same. I volunteered for a partial. You?"

"I owed Green Arrow a favor. He called it in last night and asked me to cover his morning shift today. He seemed a little disappointed. I think he'd have preferred me taking a different shift."

"What'd you owe him for?"

"A little while back he arranged for a little shift swap so I could catch up on sleep."

Shayera smirks and chuckles. "Losing sleep, Diana? _What_ have you and Mr. Wayne been up to?"

I stand up abruptly, for an instant sure she is referring to my dream from earlier this morning. Logic convinces me otherwise, so I calm, ready to trade the seat to the Thanagarian. When I'm sure my voice will not give me away, I smile. "Well, nothing you're imagining, I'm sure. While we are on the subject of Bruce, I should probably tell you before today's meeting..."

I lift my hands to nearly the level of my shoulder, cup my left hand over my right. I look meaningfully down to my hands, look back up to Shayera. I see her do a double take between my hands and face, then watch as her eyebrows shoot up. "Bruce proposed to me last night."

She looks back at me, flabbergasted. "Wow... Just...wow. I…I mean congratulations, but…truth be told, I just didn't think he had it in him..."

I let my arms drop down to my sides. "And why not?" I ask as I lift my hands back to my hips, slightly perturbed.

"Oh, come on, Diana. It isn't that surprising, is it? On the one hand you've got an eccentric multi-billionaire playboy and on the other you've got the god damn Batman… You're free to do the math yourself."

"And I told you, in the middle is a very nice, affectionate man—if only you were willing to seek him out."

Shayera laughs again. "Yeah, well, you immortals are few and far between. The rest of us aren't so lucky; we don't have that sort of patience or stubbornness. Not to mention time."

She laughs, I'm sure, at my expense as much as at her own joke. "Anyhow, I'm sure that something's going to have to give now if he plans to marry an Amazon, right? My money is on the playboy persona."

It's my turn to laugh. "I think it's safe to say he's easing himself out of that life."

"Easing?" Shayera repeats with confusion. "Why not just drop it altogether?"

"Ohh, I'm sure he wants to, but he's kept the act up for so long that he's afraid an abrupt change will tip someone off. He says he's going to start showing himself catching on to things at work—at Wayne Enterprises, I mean—and let himself appear more focused, so people think that my influence is straightening him out."

"Or…" The Thanagarian laughs, then lifts her right hand up, holding it loosely closed. She makes a noise with her mouth, a sort of "wuh-pssh" that punctuates the quick movement of her hand as she snaps it towards me at the wrist.

"What?" I ask after a short silence.

"…Or…he's whipped…" A short moment. "He does what you want, when you want it. You order, he obeys."

I lift my hands. "No—Hera, no!" I relax, lower my arms before addressing her confusion. "Bruce and I promised to be bound to one another, not to claim ownership."

"Right…" She doesn't believe me, but it's not worth trying any harder to convince her. "Anyway, have you decided anything yet?"

"Only that the official announcements begin at the meeting this evening."

"Oh, ho! That'll be amusing. Do me a favor, Diana, and don't tell Wally unless I'm there to see his reaction. Oh—Superman, too. He's been asking _me_ if I've heard anything last day or two—you know what? Don't tell anyone and just wait until the meeting."

I laugh at Shayera's desire to be, at least for a few hours, the Watchtower's sole guardian of the news of my engagement to Bruce Wayne. "Sorry," I finally apologize, "I plan on telling Kal and J'onn. Kal has been such a dear friend to me for so long, I can't bring myself to just spring the news on him in a meeting. J'onn, too. I couldn't catch him off guard with the news anyhow. I mean, you know how difficult it is to keep a secret from him."

She smiles knowingly at my comment about J'onn. "Alright. Do what you need to, I guess."

"I'll wait before telling anyone else. Don't worry."

She looks relieved. "Have to say, Diana, it'll be a nice reversal to _know_ about the rumors and news floating around this tin can before someone asks me."

I laugh as I begin moving towards the door. "I'm sure. I'll make certain to avoid the Watchtower and the Metro Tower for a while. Maybe just wait at home and be on standby. I don't think anyone would mind."

"You mean aside from me? Me who will get the brunt of the attention for _weeks_ since you won't be around for the other Leaguers and staff members to harass—I mean congratulate and chat up."

"Sure."

I'm nearly to the door when Shayera stops me once more. "Hey, Diana!" I turn and see her already seated, the chair swiveled back towards me. "I've got an idea. Since you and Bruce are getting married anyway and since…" She coughs. "_Batman_ never uses his room, maybe I can move into one of the rooms on A?"

"I don't see why not. We can bring it up at the meeting tonight. I don't expect Batman to come up much before the meeting starts, so we'll have to wait until then regardless."

"I look forward to it. Thanks, Diana. I'll see you in a few hours." I reply in kind before the Thanagarian swivels back towards the monitors. "And, Diana? Congratulations." I thank her before finally leaving.

Free of the monitor womb, I head for the commissary and lunch. For now—at least until the meeting—I want to keep my news to myself and the founders, so I can't let myself advertise my new status. I hide my ring as best I can without taking it off, turning it towards my palm and holding my tray in my left hand as I move about the cafeteria.

Hiding my ring is easy, but by comparison I quickly find it difficult not to _say_ anything, especially when I stop by and speak to Susan while she serves up my iced mocha. To my own amazement, I manage to get through the meal without incident. I manage to hide my ring from my tablemates by eating with my right hand, keeping my left in my lap under the table.

After, I head for the command deck, hoping to see J'onn. It's to my relief that the Martian is present, aiding Mr. Terrific while both men are present. He happens to be facing me as I float up from the transporter deck below. His eyes lock with mine quickly. It only lasts a moment before he turns away.

"Mr. Terrific, if you don't mind, I must excuse myself for a few moments." J'onn stands as he speaks.

"Sure thing, J'onn. I've got this," comes the genius's reply. He then looks up and notices me, gives me a greeting wave. "Hi, Wonder Woman! How're you doing?"

I smile, glad to be able to say even this much without lighting the news firestorm. "Very well. Thank you." J'onn passes by me and I turn, following him back down to the elevator, waving goodbye to Mr. Terrific as I go.

J'onn brings the elevator down to our floor, Dormitory Deck A, and stops only a few feet from the elevator. "Now, then, Diana…" His growing smile betrays his knowledge, but I'm still more than happy my Martian friend is letting me have this moment. "What would you like to speak about?"

"Well…" I lift my hands, spread the fingers of my left hand and turn my ring so the gemstones are again facing out. "Yesterday evening, Bruce proposed to me at dinner."

"Congratulations, Diana. I'm very happy for you." Despite J'onn's barely emotive countenance, I can tell his words are sincere. I can hear the subtle shift in his tone, see the smile on his lips. As much for his benefit as my own, I let Bruce's proposal replay in my mind.

To my surprise, the Martian chuckles lightly. I look to him with confusion. "Forgive me, Diana. I merely find it amusing that his proposal took you by surprise as much as it did."

The only thing to come to mind is when I dropped my silverware, the issuing clinks that seemed so much louder for being the only sound in the whole room while the two men waited for my answer. I join J'onn in laughter. "Certainly can't blame you."

"If you would have preferred, you could have waited until this evening's meeting to tell me."

"Yes, I know, but you've known for most of the morning, haven't you?"

His expression shifts subtly again. Disappointment, maybe shame. "Yes and no. I could not ignore your emotions after I arrived aboard the Watchtower, but it was not until you spoke with Shayera that I learned why. Your thoughts were more open than I imagine you intended."

I nod in understanding. "As I told her, I knew I wouldn't be able to surprise you."

"And you'll have to forgive me again, Diana. I did not want to patronize you by pretending to be."

"Thanks, J'onn." I look back down to my hands for a moment, play with my ring a little. "Truth be told, I wanted you to hear it aloud from me first—before the meeting, I mean. I've only seen you and Shayera, but I'd like to tell Kal beforehand, too. I can't bring myself to blindside him with the news."

"You intend to wait for his arrival?" I nod in reply. J'onn is still and silent for a few extra moments. "He will arrive late in the afternoon. He will be leaving Metropolis at most an hour earlier than usual."

"You just asked him?"

He nods in confirmation. "Do not worry, I did not tell him why I wanted to know."

"Thanks again, J'onn."

"Please, think nothing of it." He pauses. "I apologize, but I must return to the command deck. Before I go, Diana, may I make a suggestion?"

"Of course. What is it?"

"As you felt Batman's, or rather Bruce's proposal fit him, do not let yourself be bound to any traditions. Be sure you consider a wedding ceremony that satisfies you both. In the end, if that is something which adheres to American or Greek tradition, a mix of the two, or something unique that you invent for yourselves makes no difference."

I smile, nodding in agreement. "Thanks, J'onn. I'll make sure Bruce and I keep that in mind." He nods his acknowledgement. "Alright, I'll let you go. I'll see you this evening."

J'onn reaches out with his right hand, places it on my shoulder and pats it, much like Alfred had last night. "Until then, Diana," he replies as he returns his hand to his side. He then looks up and floats upward, passing through the ceiling on his way to Mr. Terrific's aid.

I look around, thinking of what to do next and eventually decide that since I'm already here, I may as well try to catch up on a little sleep. I turn down the hall towards the short series of bedroom doors. With a quick voice command, the door opens to my neglected old room.

It's almost entirely empty. The bed is still made. The other larger pieces of furniture are still here. It's not so much that I couldn't move them as it is that I haven't had a real reason to bother. Everything I need is already at home, at Wayne Manor. What I've left here is more or less a set of spares in case I ever need them.

The bed won't be nearly what I'm now accustomed to, but it'll do for a nap. As I always do, I remove my armor and climb into bed. I feel the difference immediately. I can feel the depression in the mattress that I've made over the years from always sleeping in the same place, in the same position. I never thought it was worth asking for a replacement and, in truth, I'd grown used to it, for a long while grown to expect it.

I begin to relax. _'Of course now I'm too used to my bed at Wayne Manor…'_ I remember my engagement and smile. _'Soon, I'll have to change beds again.'_ I'll be moving into Bruce's room as soon as we are wife and husband.

The thought of being married to Bruce returns this morning's dream to my mind. Abruptly, I roll over, planting my face in my pillow and lifting my arms to put them underneath it. _'As if waiting wasn't already hard enough without having this dream in the back of my mind...'_

Somehow, I manage to fall asleep. I'm still lying on my stomach and the dream is still very much in the forefront of my thoughts. Though I don't know how, when I wake up later, I've managed to have dreamless sleep. I assume I haven't slept for as long as I'd hoped and quickly blame the difference in bedding for my abbreviated nap.

Curious about the time, I turn my head to my left to see the clock near my door. I turn into a sheet of hair and remember that I had rolled left when I turned over earlier. I pull my hand from beneath the pillow and sweep my hair back to my right, clearing the way for me to see the time. 2:38. I suppose a little later than I'd expected, but I'm a little disappointed. I wouldn't mind if I'd slept through the afternoon.

I pull myself up and sit with my feet over the edge of my bed. I stare at nothing for a while, not really thinking, not really doing anything. Finally, I know I cannot delay myself any longer. It's time for me to rise and I collect my armor, donning it once again.

I call to J'onn mentally and ask if there are any missions for me to lead or take part in, but he tells me that Flash is handling the only mission requiring a team and he doesn't want to complicate the on-site chain of command by having me join. Denied the chance at one thing to do, I inform him I'll be making rounds about the Watchtower, assisting the staff wherever I can. To help me out, he informs me of a few maintenance crews with jobs currently in progress on the lower decks.

I make my way down the elevator and find myself donning a radiation suit to help Steel and one of the crews in the reactor. I help with maneuvering the various replacement components. Thanks to the relatively fragile suit, I'm limited in what I can safely do. Fortunately, with both my help and Steel's, the main reactor is back online and the backup generators can be safely deactivated.

Not long after, I help another team load and unload a freight elevator as they move a delivery of foodstuffs from the hangar bay to the refrigeration units for the cafeteria. Afterwards, I check the time, see that it's nearly 4:20. I quickly make my way up to our private founders' administration deck and the conference room where we hold our weekly meetings.

The room is empty, so I take my seat and wait, hoping it won't be much longer before Kal arrives. Luckily, it isn't more than five minutes before he does.

"Diana! Well, you're here a bit early."

"Good afternoon, Kal. I've actually been waiting for you."

"Guess I should have realized after J'onn asked me when I'd be heading up from Metropolis. What's on your mind?"

I prop my chin up on my right hand, wrapping my left over my right elbow, hoping to display my ring without making it too obvious. "I wanted to ask how you and Lois are doing."

I see a small twitch high on his left cheek, but I'm not sure what to attribute it to. It doesn't seem to impact the warm, friendly tone of his voice. "Why do you ask? Did something happen with you and Bruce?"

I smile, but shake my head. "You first, Kal."

The barest of disappointed frowns crosses his lips before he sighs, and then smiles. "We're doing well. Thanks to you and Bruce, we've actually grown a lot closer."

I smirk. "I imagine you don't just mean physically."

The Man of Steel reddens considerably, his eyes widening as he begins to stammer aimlessly. Nothing comes of the attempted speech and he soon stops to retry. "No, I mean that we've come to trust each other more. Lois suggested we proceed as you and Bruce are, having Lois date Clark Kent instead of Superman. And a couple days ago, I even took her to meet my folks."

"Well, that's nice." I try not to sound even the least bit envious.

I'd certainly have liked to meet Bruce's parents in a normal setting, but as grim an outlook as it is, I owe it to the tragedy of their murder that I ever met Bruce at all. My own mother, on the other hand, has already met Bruce, but as Batman instead of as Bruce Wayne. I'm not sure even that fact will ease her mind when she learns of Bruce Wayne, multi-billionaire playboy, and that I'm engaged to marry the very same.

"Alright, Diana. It's your turn. How're things going between you and Bruce?"

I pause. There's a hidden layer nearly of anxiousness on his voice. I push it to the back of my mind as I feign taking offense. "Kal!" I switch, moving my chin to my left hand and slapping my right against the tabletop. "I can't believe you haven't already figured it out!"

I'd swear I see understanding flash across his face, but he schools himself almost as quickly. "Figured what out?"

I frown for a moment. _'Is he really going to make me drag this out and explain? …Well, I suppose he was pretty dense back when we were turned into kids to fight Mordred…'_ I smile. "Last night...Bruce…" I tap my ring finger against my chin a couple times to call attention to the sole piece of jewelry I'm wearing. I see the surprise on Kal's expression, another flash of the understanding from a moment prior. "…proposed to me."

Now a new flash of emotions crosses the Kryptonian's expression. This time it's joy. I'm surprised, even shocked when I see the joy fall away almost as quickly as it appeared. It's replaced by a heavy sadness.

I nearly ask what's wrong. "Don't…" he says weakly before I take the chance.

I trade my surprise and shock back in from whence they came, becoming instead as flabbergasted, as dumbstruck as Shayera was when we met at the end of the morning. "What?"

"You can't marry him."

I blink, unsure how to really reply. "Kal, this is a horrible thing to joke about."

He grimaces as if in horrible pain. His voice is low and he isn't even looking at me. "I'm not joking, Diana. You can't marry Bruce." He finally turns his head, eyes me for a long moment before speaking again. "Call it off."

Again, I don't know how to respond aloud. _'How could you say that? You know everything that Bruce means to me!'_ Finally, I find my voice. "_No!_ Why should I?" I don't honestly care how angry I sound. I can't worry about how it might look to him. It hurts too much hearing so dear a friend tell me I should deny myself this happiness.

"Because I think I know what's going to happen if you do. I guess I'd call it a prediction...like foresight or something, I don't know. Maybe it was just symbolic, but I've been having this…recurring nightmare…"

He turns away as my jaw slackens and my eyes widen in shock and disbelief. "It always ends the same way, the both of you on the front landing at Wayne Manor, dead in your wedding clothes. I think it's a warning."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thanks for reading.

Ok, I sort of hate myself for doing this, but I've got words to spare, so it's happening. I bookend each one-shot/chapter with the admittedly dry lines about DC's ownership and the reviews line as seen above, but I really do appreciate every bit of commentary I receive from you, my readers. I try to focus more on views and the like, but it's getting more and more difficult to separate myself from the general decline in reviews to reply to (read: I like to reply, especially by PM).

I'm beginning to feel this story has overstayed its welcome. As a result, I've decided this storyline ends with Purpose. I pledge only two things: I will not cut this story short and I also will not extend it into a fifth fanfic.

At the same time, my comments on Proposition still hold true. I enjoyed writing that little glimpse of a typical morning for Mr. and Mrs. Bruce Wayne too much for my own good, so I'm not going to preclude myself from writing anything about Diana and Bruce, married couple. However, while I may specify in the notes for such a sequel that it follows the events of Purpose and its prequels, I will make sure that each is its own standalone story.

Thanks again.**  
**


	11. Announcement

**Author's Note:** Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

* * *

I look up as my intercom buzzes. "Yes, Miss Park?"

"Mr. Fox is on line three, Mr. Wayne."

"Thank you." I release the intercom button and switch my focus to the flashing light on my phone. "Good afternoon, Lucius."

"Bruce, you wanted to see me about something?"

"I'd have preferred seeing you in person, but two things while I have you, Lucius: news and a favor."

"Sure thing, Bruce. What've you got?"

I take a deep breath. The smile comes a moment later. "As you know, I've been...seeing someone of late."

"Someone?" he repeats incredulously. "Princess Diana of Themyscira, also known as Wonder Woman. It's been public knowledge for weeks, months. I hope your news isn't to say you're seeing someone else on the side, Bruce. I _really_ don't want to see you mess this up for yourself…"

"Of course not! It isn't that at all. Quite the opposite, in fact." I pause for a moment to pick my words. "The hesitation was for an appropriate verb, Lucius. To call it dating would have just sounded so…high school," I finish with a bit of disdain. He breathes a sigh of relief and I give him a moment before telling him the truth. "I wanted you to know that I proposed to her last night."

"Congratulations, Bruce!" The response is all but immediate. He clearly has no doubt that she said yes. "You do your father proud—and I _don't_ mean because it's Wonder Woman."

"I know, Lucius, I know." I wait again. "Diana made me realize why my parents were happy…and I'm ready to take hold of that for myself."

"It's been twenty-six years, Bruce. I'd say it's about time. I know they'd be proud." He chuckles. "But I'm sure you've heard enough of that from Alfred and Dr. Thompkins already." I join in his laughter, but omit that I haven't told Leslie yet, that I plan on telling her this evening, perhaps while on patrol if I begin early enough. "Well, Bruce, if that's the news, what's the favor?"

"I want you to arrange the setup of two trusts."

"Now, Bruce, forgive me if I'm just repeating public knowledge again, but you're rather famous for having a lot of money. What do you need another pair of trust funds for?"

"Insurance." Before I can say more, there's a beep in my ear. It's from the receiver. There aren't many with the privilege or access to call my phone directly. "Hold on a moment, Lucius, I'm getting another call."

"Bruce." I pause before switching lines. "Don't worry about me, do what you need to do. I'll get the ball rolling on these trusts. Just give me a number to open them with first."

"Ten million each for now. Thank you, Lucius." I let him reply before we say our goodbyes. The phone beeps again just before I switch lines. "Wayne."

"Master Bruce, standby, I'm patching Miss Diana into this line."

_'Alfred?'_ I can hear a familiar noise in the background. _'He's on his way here?'_

Almost before I finish the thought, the princess's voice fills my ear. "Bruce, I asked Alfred to pick you up at the office early. I have a…situation I want you here for." The shortest of pauses. "I have to go. Call me back when you can."

She's gone before I can react. A grimace crosses my face. "Alfred, how long?" My hand goes to my desk and I open my drawer to retrieve my League communicator stored within.

"Long enough for you to reach the street, sir."

"I'll meet you."

"Very good, Master Bruce."

The line goes dead and I hang up my phone. I rise, gather my things, fill my attaché, and exit my office. I keep my communicator in my hand, ready to pop it into my ear as soon as I'm out to the car.

I close the office door behind me. "Mr. Wayne?"

"Heading home a little early, Miss Park. Feel free to get an early start on your evening as well. Just route my calls to voice mail before you head home."

"Thanks, Mr. Wayne. Have a good evening."

I smile back and reply in kind before turning down the hall. I climb into the elevator and my luck grants me a solitary ride down to the ground floor. I repeatedly turn my communicator around in my hand as the elevator descends, playing it between my fingers and thumb while my mind works to determine the reason for Diana's call.

The elevator doors open and I quickly cross the lobby. The security desk guards and I share a polite "good evening" as I pass by. I reach the edge of the sensor range for the doors and they glide open. Lifting my focus from my thoughts and the concrete, I spot Alfred, already waiting by the rear passenger door of the car.

"Any ideas?" I ask when I'm close enough to be sure no one will overhear us.

"No, sir. She asked that I depart immediately to pick you up from the office. Her second call I routed from the cave through the house line when we reached you upstairs," he replies even more quietly.

I lift my communicator to my ear as I nod, pretend to scratch an itch as I press it in with my thumb. I sit down and buckle myself in. As the buckle clicks into place, Alfred closes my door. My hand, meanwhile, returns to my ear.

"Batman to Wonder Woman." The device issues a quick tone of success.

"You're on your way?"

"Diana, what's going on? Why the rush? The meeting isn't for over an hour."

"I moved it up. We start the moment you arrive." There's an anger to her voice as well as an odd, conflicting sense of aloofness. I can't quite tell over the communicator if she's angry about disconnecting herself from something or disconnecting herself because she's angry.

"Diana, what's wrong?" I can't think of anything I might have done to anger her. Quite the contrary, we have every reason to be happy after last night. _'What could turn her mood around like this?'_

There's a delay in her response. "Better to tell you in person," she finally tells me. "Wonder Woman out."

She closes the channel before I can respond. I can't believe her tone. "Alfred," I say as I lean forward and wrap my hand over the back of his seat by the headrest, "Something's going on at the Watchtower. Bring me straight to the cave when we get home."

"Of course, Master Bruce."

I lean back, fold my arms over my chest. I stare forward, dimly aware of our surroundings as Alfred continues to drive. We finally turn off the road, heading up the private drive towards Wayne Manor. Sight of the generations-old mansion ahead snaps me back from my thoughts.

As soon as we pass the main gate, I open a secret compartment in the car and pull out the Batsuit stashed there. By the time we reach the manor's underground garage, I've got the underlying suit and my utility belt on. The hidden door opens up, allowing Alfred to drive straight down to the Batcave while I put my boots and gloves on.

When the car comes to a stop, I get out on my own with my cape and cowl in my left hand. I close the door so Alfred won't have to and approach the transporter pad. I drape the cape over my shoulders and pull the neck of the cowl down over my head, leaving the hood back for another moment.

"Alfred," I begin as I turn back, see the elderly man waiting beside the still-running car, "I—no, _we_ will fill you in when we get home." He nods in appreciative response before I turn back to the transporter.

I step up to the controls and active its systems. The pad begins to glow and I pull the cowl's hood over my face before stepping forward. A moment on the pad and I'm thousands of miles away on the orbiting space station.

The technician on duty straightens as I approach. He swallows when he realizes I'm going to talk to him. "Founders on board?"

"All seven are aboard now that you've arrived—ah, Batman, sir."

I lift my gaze without replying, turn my attention to the main elevator. I press the call button and it arrives a short few moments later. The sight of me hastens Captain Atom on his way out and I replace him in the elevator car. I key in my access to the founders' deck as the doors close.

Soon after, the doors open again. I walk briskly to our private conference room. The doors part automatically and I pause for an extra breath in the doorway. Almost everyone's looking at me, each of them with an unexpected sense of relief. Only Diana and Clark ignore my arrival. Diana is staring daggers at Superman while the Man of Steel looks despondently at the center of the table. He looks…defeated, ashamed.

The others, save J'onn, appear to be in various stages of surprise, confusion, and worry, Wally most especially. As I begin walking to my seat beside Diana, the others turn to her expectantly. "Diana," I say to get her attention as I seat myself.

She turns to me, smiles for the briefest of moments, then turns back to Superman. Despite the change in focus, her right hand takes my left under the table and she pulls my glove off, draping it over her leg before reaching across herself to take my bare hand in her left. She lifts both onto the conference table, making sure that her hand and her engagement ring are visible.

"Bruce proposed to me last night. I said yes. We're now engaged to be married," she deadpans. Again I can't believe her tone. _'Where is her elation? Her joy? Her satisfaction?'_ I turn to her with my surprise.

Her expression is grim. Her eyes are scanning the others around the table. I turn to do the same, try to rub my thumb against her hand to ease her mind. Flash looks sad. His eyes are downcast. Superman seems to have shrunken in his chair. Shayera seems surprised and confused, she's looking back and forth around the table, almost as Diana and I are. John's eyes are closed, his chin lowered against his chest, as if he were in mourning. J'onn seems as stoic as always, but there's a knowingness to his expression. He appears to be waiting patiently for Diana.

"Superman." Diana's tone draws my attention back to her. She sounds livid. Somehow, I'm not sure it's entirely directed at the Kryptonian. No, knowing the strength of their friendship, I cannot _believe_ it's entirely directed at Clark.

He surrenders with a sigh. "For a little while now, I've been…having a…ahh…recurring nightmare." My eyes widen. The others look to him in surprise. "It was…it was always the same thing…the two of you in your wedding clothes…dead…on the front landing at the manor..."

I notice my jaw has fallen and make the effort to close my narrowly gaping mouth. _'It can't be… I thought Diana and I were the only ones__!__' _My princess squeezes my hand tight. It's fortunate for me she's only doing it with human strength.

"Does anyone else have anything to add?" she asks.

Flash raises his hand. "Me, too… I didn't want to believe in it, but…"

From across the table, John speaks up as well. "Same here."

"Mine always started in Central City." I turn to Flash as he speaks up again. "I'd decide to go for a run and then end up in Gotham. I'd figure if I was in town, I could go say hi to you, so I'd head for the manor. I'd get the feeling something was wrong while coming up the driveway and I'd come to a stop just below the top step."

"I'd be flying in from overhead." I turn to John.

"Same for me." I turn to Superman.

"So what? They're just dreams, aren't they?" Diana and I are the first to turn to Shayera.

"Yet all three of you seem to be experiencing the same ending," J'onn responds. He turns to Diana and I immediately after with a pointed gaze. He definitely knows more than he's letting on and it makes me wonder how much he knows of _our_ dreams.

Flash clears his throat a little timidly. "Well, for what it's worth, I'm happy for you both, but…if we're all dreaming the same thing here, it's…hard to imagine it _doesn't_ mean something…"

"That's why I told you, Diana. I thought it was meant as a warning. I wanted to be sure you knew."

Diana's posture shifts, her grip tightens around my hand. "It sounded to me like you were trying to convince me to change my mind, Kal." I look back to Clark, see the effects of Diana's barbs.

Clark grimaces for a moment, his eyes turned to the table between us. "Alright, fine." He looks up, stares Diana dead in the eye. "I didn't see another way." He raises his voice, leaning forward and sliding an arm out onto the table as if confronting a bully. "I tried to change your mind and keep my nightmare from _ever_ coming true!"

She scoffs in reply. "This is just like when—"

"Diana!" I chide. I have a feeling she's thinking of my first few dreams. If she hasn't said anything about my dreams or hers yet, I want to keep things that way.

She turns quickly at my interruption. I turn my attention to our hands, knowing hers will follow as I pull my hand from hers. I grip her ring between my forefinger and thumb, then give it a gentle, testing pull while turning my eyes back to her expression. She immediately tenses. She reaches her hand past my fingers and takes firm hold of my wrist to stop me.

She looks back to me with abject horror. I barely manage to work all of my fingers around to one side of her wrist. I stroke her forearm gently and reply to her wordless expression with a confident, comforting smile.

Her expression softens and she lets out a staggered exhale as she relaxes in her seat. Our hands slip back until our palms are together, our fingers wrapped behind each other's hand. After a moment more, I turn to Superman, then look to the others.

"We're not changing our minds. Real or imagined, we will overcome whatever challenges stand in our way, if any at all." I pause, for a moment unsure if I can bring myself to say it, if I can allow myself _as Batman_ to say it. _'Yes,'_ I decide. _'For Diana, for our friends' peace of mind, and for myself.'_ I look out across the table. "But we aren't above accepting your help should we need it."

I see a small smile on J'onn's lips. Clark, John, and Shayera look surprised. "Whoa…" Wally gasps before I turn my gaze to him. Clark joins J'onn and smiles.

I narrow my eyes behind the cowl. "What?" Kent's knowing smile widens. My glare grows more intense. "Don't we have a meeting for you to conduct?"

"Oh. Yeah. Right."

I let my expression even as Clark tries to get us started on our actual meeting. I'm barely paying attention and, as I steal glances about the table, I can see that the others are straining to focus as well. Diana is least focused of all. I can at least say I'm not surprised to see that.

"Alright," Superman eventually says, no more animated than when he began, "if there's nothing more, then I think we're adjourned."

I turn to Diana. She isn't making any effort to stand. The others really aren't, either. Finally, Flash gets up. He looks apologetically to Diana, then walks slowly towards the door. J'onn rises as Shayera stands up and puts a hand on John's shoulder, urging the former marine to his feet.

"Superman," I say almost unnecessarily. Clearly, all present already seem to understand the unspoken need for my fiancée and I to speak privately with our Kryptonian friend.

J'onn is the last one out the door before it closes. His voice calls out from the edge of my mind once silence takes hold of the room. _'Batman…Bruce, please do not forget that, despite the ominous signs, we are indeed happy for you and we would all like to help in whatever way we can.'_ He pauses, though not long enough for a response. _'Try not to be too hard on Superman. I am sure you can sympathize with a man seemingly without good options.'_

I smirk for a moment. _'Thank you, J'onn. I'll keep it in mind.'_ I look to Diana, then to Clark.

With a deep breath, I try to clear my mind. When I'm satisfied, I give a sigh, then lift my free hand to my forehead and push my cowl back over my head, exposing my head and face to the room. "Clark." He looks up to me and already seems more confident and sure. "First things first. I need to know when this started."

"A couple days before Diana officially moved into the manor."

I pause at that. I don't really know what to make of the timeline. We had barely more than two weeks between inviting Lois and Clark to the manor for dinner and the dream that pushed me to propose. I look to Diana and she seems to have picked up on the same thing.

"So, your initial objections were entirely your own, then?" she asks. I squeeze Diana's hand tightly. She pauses, turns away.

"Yes," Clark admits. "I really couldn't bear watching Bruce keep pushing you away. When you got together so soon after it seemed you were giving up on each other, I felt like it was up to me to ask the hard questions neither of you seemed willing to ask."

"So, it was easier for you to be the one driving the wedge?" Diana snaps back.

"Diana!" I exclaim again. "That's not helping right now."

She replies with a contemptuous humph. "Well, excuse me for being angry."

I turn to Clark. "To be fair, Clark, you haven't exactly had the greatest confidence in Diana and I throughout our relationship."

"I know, Bruce. It helped seeing how you are with each other, how happy you seem. Even Batman hasn't seemed as gloomy and cold since you got together." He pauses, turns his attention from me to my fiancée. "And…that's why it was really hard telling you about my nightmare. I had to. I thought it'd be better to be alive and unhappy than let pursuit of your happiness get you both killed."

My thoughts go immediately to my parents. I pull in on myself, releasing Diana's hand as I close my eyes and focus inward. Eventually, my mind goes to Diana's recount of her visions in Gorilla City. I speak almost without thinking. "Even the worst tragedies can lead to something positive, Clark. We're all proof of that."

Clark nods in agreement and I'm sure he's thinking of what could have been of Krypton. "I'm telling him." I whip my head toward Diana. She takes my left hand again, this time with her right. "Bruce and I have been having dreams as well."

I try to interrupt and take control of the conversation, but she squeezes my hand. It's nearly enough to start breaking bones. I groan in pain and close my right hand into a tight fist, slamming it down against the top of the conference table.

"Quite the opposite of your dreams, ours seem to be pushing us toward promises of a happy future together." Her grip relaxes considerably as she speaks. Finally the pain ceases and I try to even my breathing. "They didn't start until after we decided to have our first date, so we know they aren't what brought us together. I'd much rather think of them as a helpful push to hurry us along."

Clearly, it's in my hand's best interest to follow Diana's lead at this time. "We also have reason to believe they're accurate." Clark turns to me. "The night after you and Lois came over for dinner, I had a run-in with Two-Face and Penguin, part of which we both dreamed about in one way or another beforehand."

"Are you sure? I mean, dreams can be pretty vague at times."

I narrow my eyes in disbelief. _'This from the guy who tried to change Diana's mind on a recurring nightmare…'_ I turn to her. She notices and stares back. I look again at Clark. "Yes. Two-Face tried to pour acid over half of my face. I dreamt what I'd do in response…in retaliation; Diana dreamt what I'd look like afterwards."

Superman looks away for a moment, then steels himself and deadpans, "Not that we need the additional tension, but that does more to undermine your argument than support it. You dreamt about something and then it _didn't_ happen."

"You'll have to sit back and wait if you want the rest to prove themselves accurate." The two of us men turn to Diana.

"What do you mean?"

"They've been about our life while married…"

I can't help but remember my dream of waking up beside Diana, but then I remember I still haven't told her about it. It's a little surprising to see a light blush tinting her cheeks. _'Did she have a similar dream?'_ Well, we have been understandably distracted since yesterday evening, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to ask her once we get back home to the manor.

"Oh…" Clark meanwhile replies. He falls silent.

The break in conversation seems like a good opportunity. I rub my fingers against the back of Diana's hand to get her attention. She turns to me and I give her a smile before slipping my hand from hers and fetching my glove from her leg. I drape it over my own leg and then put my hand on her shoulder.

"Clark." He lifts his eyes to me as I turn back to look across the table. I tip my head towards the door and raise my eyebrows meaningfully. He nods and begins to stand while I do the same, keeping my left hand on my fiancée's shoulder and catching my glove with my right before it can slide off my leg.

While I follow Clark out into the hall, I pull my cowl back into place and put my glove back on. We stand out in the hall and I cross my arms over my chest as the doors close behind us. "Wow." He replies with a knowing groan, turns towards the windows overlooking Earth. "_What_ did you say to her?"

He's silent for a short while before answering. "You mean aside from explaining my nightmare?" It's obviously a rhetorical question. "If I had to guess, I'd say telling her to 'call it off' was what did me in."

"Wow," I repeat. I remember what I once said to Diana. I smile ruefully and step up to the windows beside Clark. "I have, you haven't."

"What?"

"That's what I told Diana when she visited me in the cave hoping to finish our discussion about our viability as a couple."

"Oh…" He pauses for a few moments, then shakes his head. "Wow…"

"Yeah." I take a turn at pausing. "Honestly, I can empathize with you for what you did in the elevator when I followed her up here, but…" I stop, realize where this train of thought will lead. _'No. That dream I keep between Alfred, Diana, and myself.'_

I clear my throat, start again. "Suffice to say there was probably a better time for you to deliver your warning."

"So I've realized…"

"So why _didn't_ you say anything about it earlier? If it's a recurring nightmare, why wait more than two weeks before saying anything?"

"I honestly didn't think you would propose so quickly."

I smirk. "So now it's my fault?"

"Well, no…but…" Superman gives a sigh, turns to me from the window. "Bruce, I'm sorry. I should have told you both earlier and I shouldn't have tried to change Diana's mind."

"While I appreciate the sentiment behind your apology, I don't accept it."

Kent looks back indignantly. "_What?_ Why not?"

"Because you don't need to apologize to me. I'm marrying Diana no matter what warnings or protests you or anyone else comes up with." I pause, a single scenario coming to mind. "If you were her mother, it might be a different story. As it is, that's news neither of us are looking forward to delivering.

"Regardless, Diana came here this morning looking forward to telling you, probably more than anyone else on the Watchtower, that she and I are engaged. Whether it was your goal or not, you hurt her, wounded her. You need to make things right with her, not with me."

"Yeah…" He pauses, looks towards the windows for another moment, then turns back towards the door to the conference room. "Yeah, I do."

I quickly move around in front of him as he takes a step forward. "No. Not now, not yet." He opens his mouth and I know he'll ask why. "You need to give her some time, let her cool off before you try to make amends."

Understanding colors Clark's expression. "Yeah. Alright."

"Good." I begin to slowly turn back towards the conference room. "Now get out of here. I have to go make sure your name stays on our invitation list," I jest in a dry, unenthused voice.

"Thanks, Bruce." I approach the door as he turns away, pause to watch as he disappears around the corner and heads for the elevator.

I wait another half minute, making sure I hear the elevator arriving before I open the conference room door. Finally, I open it and step inside. Diana immediately looks up to me. Instead of waiting for it to close behind me, I activate the door controls manually and then approach while again pushing my cowl's hood back.

I give Diana a smile as I pull both gloves off and toss them onto the table, then move my chair towards hers, turning it away from the table. With it in place, I come around and sit down, our chairs and legs parallel but with reversed facing. I look towards the window for a moment as I sit, then turn back to Diana, whose eyes have returned to the table.

"Well, _that_ was unexpected."

Diana scoffs. "Really? That's all you're going to say about it?"

"No," I defend. Leaning forward, I take both of Diana's hands in my own and gaze into her eyes. "Remember, Princess: if Apollo means to challenge us, we meet and overcome it together."

She smiles. "Using my own words against me now, are you?"

"Not especially." I lean closer, give Diana a gentle kiss.

"So now what do we do? Our secret's out—two of them, if you count the news of our engagement, but at least that was intended—and come to find out we aren't the only ones receiving Apollo's visions in our dreams."

I nod as I lean back in my chair. "I'm curious as to why J'onn and Shayera haven't had any. If not for Clark, I'd assume it was something to do with their both being aliens… Time spent on Earth, perhaps?"

Diana lifts her legs as she turns perpendicular to me. She rests her legs across mine just above my knees and leans towards the table. She shakes her head as she props her head up on her left hand. "No, I doubt it. The gods are not restricted to dominion over just Earth. Apollo must have deemed it unnecessary. Three friends sent to ruin my mood must have been enough…"

I place my hands across Diana's legs at her knees. "I hardly think they would go out of their way to weave a tale of doom and gloom for three of the five other founders just to get under your skin, Princess…"

"Then what do you think it is, Bruce?"

"Just what Clark thought: a warning. We've suspected some sort of challenge or trial for months, yet all we get are more visions, more dreams. Taken symbolically, Clark, Wally, and John's dreams seem to foretell an event that doesn't occur until _after_ our wedding. Looking at each of our own and assuming each to be accurate in at least a metaphoric sense, Apollo's challenge will have been forgotten in four or so years, or it won't happen until a number of years down the line."

Diana blinks a few times and tips her head to her side for a moment. "Four or so years?" she repeats. "Where did that number come from?"

I nearly answer, opening my mouth to speak before I remember my promise to Alfred. A moment's consideration and I suppose it isn't something I'll need to repeat for my old friend, but I still don't want explain the whole thing to Diana and certainly not within easy earshot of Clark. I give a hum as I think of what to say.

"Did you have another dream?"

At first I smirk in reply, then I let my lips even into a more relaxed and gentler smile. "Yeah. After the dreams we each had about me and Two-Face, I thought avoiding that was Apollo's goal for us." I pause for a moment, as much to give Diana a chance to think as for me to choose what to say and what to omit.

"Then I had another dream yesterday morning. It was the two of us, waking up one morning. We had a little time to ourselves before Alfred arrived to rouse us for the day." I make note of Diana's cheeks flushing crimson and her eyes widening, but decide to finish before I change topics.

"There wasn't much more to it than that, but Alfred hastened us along with the warning that Tim could only distract our children for so long. We also discussed picking your mother up from Themyscira to stay at Wayne Manor." Diana perks up. "Considering the numbers four and five are sticking out in my mind, I can only surmise that the visit was to be for an anniversary or birthday."

"Really?" she replies with a mix of surprise and hope.

"What?"

"Mother was coming to visit us?"

I nod. "You were going to depart for Themyscira that morning. I think Alfred was going to have a room ready before noon—I nearly asked him about it after I woke up." I take a few short breaths, avert my eyes from Diana's gaze as I turn towards the windows. "Truth be told, it was infuriating to realize what had happened to me.

"That dream was why I proposed to you yesterday. I've had the ring for weeks, been considering proposing for months, but…" I turn back to Diana again, see understanding in her eyes. "I just kept worrying that we weren't ready, that something might hold you back. I've even worried if I was good enough for you."

Immediately, Diana takes my hands. She pulls me in and gives me a reassuring kiss. "Well, you know you didn't need to worry about that now, right, Bruce? Besides, do you think we'd have ever gotten to the point of dating, let alone committing to marriage if I _didn't_ think you were good enough for me?"

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." I smirk. A chuckle escapes me unbidden. "Alfred said similar. Told me that evening before you got home that it was your choice, not mine, and that with everything he'd seen, there was no reason for me to worry."

She smiles knowingly, then leans back. "So, Bruce, you still haven't answered my question. What do you think we should do next?"

"Forget about it, ignore it, carry on as if we never heard about it." I begin to stand, gently guiding Diana's legs off mine before reaching down to pull her to her feet and into an embrace. "We still have news to share and there are people outside the League for us each to talk to."

She nods as she wraps her hands around my waist. "I need to tell Audrey and Mother and my sisters on Themyscira. I certainly would rather tell Audrey before you make us follow through on any television interviews."

I chuckle lightly. "And your mother?"

"Well, hearing about your dream was actually quite encouraging. After all, if she's going to be willing to visit Gotham in five years, than she might be a lot more understanding of our relationship now than I've been imagining." She pauses to switch subjects. "And anyway, you still have some people to tell, don't you?"

"Only everyone I mentioned to you."

"A whole day and you haven't said a word to anyone?" Her lips slide into a mock frown. "And here I thought _you_ were excited, too."

"Well, I never said I hadn't told anyone, I just didn't think to tell Lucius until I got into the office today. He's a long-time friend of mine as he was for my father. I told him about our engagement and asked him to set up a pair of trust funds."

"What for?"

"Insurance." I feel a bit of déjà vu, take advantage of the lack of interruptions and continue. "You might be surprised to learn that being Batman can be an expensive endeavor. My continued operations—not to mention the League's, for which I'm _still_ the biggest benefactor—rely heavily on my own personal wealth.

"For all that we accomplish, it doesn't protect the world from economic disaster. It has an impact, to be sure, but no matter the power we possess individually or as a collective group, Superman can't swoop into the Stock Exchange to prevent price inflation or a market crash. We are not the Justice Lords, it's not the sort of power we deserve to or should wield." I pause to lighten my tone. "So, I want to add an extra layer of protection on top of the Wayne family holdings to make sure that we can always provide for our children."

Diana visibly reddens again. She averts her gaze, but she still smiles. Her grip on me tightens. "Don't you think it's a little soon to be thinking about children, Bruce?"

I lift a hand to her chin, coax her lips up to meet mine. "Well, assuming our dreams to be at least metaphorically accurate… I don't think it's too early." Her blush grows deeper. I let my curiosity enter my expression. "Something happen you haven't told me yet, Princess?"

She looks surprised and embarrassed, then she drops her chin and her smile spreads into a smirk as she shakes her head back and forth. "Well, I guess I probably should tell you that I had a dream of my own this morning."

"Oh?"

Diana answers me first with a pondering hum. "I…think I'm going to wait until we get back home before I even _begin_ to tell you about it."

_'Hmm, well this sounds salacious…'_ I slip my hands from Diana and we separate, though still with a little hesitation—even on my part—and I must admit a bit of eagerness to hear Diana's retelling. "Then, let's get back to Gotham. Before I left the cave, I told Alfred I'd bring you back and we would explain what happened today together."

Diana's eyes widen. She takes firm hold of me by the arms to keep me from turning or stepping away. "Ohh, no! What happened with Kal and the others, fine, but I'm _not_ telling Alfred about my dream!"

I smile to reassure her. "Of course. That's fine, Diana." _'Definitely salacious.'_

We separate and leave the conference room behind as we head for the elevator. I head down first, linking my suit's computer up to the Watchtower's systems and switching the elevator to manual control so I can get down to Dormitory Deck A without the company of any extra passengers. A simple yet time-consuming way to keep Batman from arriving on the transporter deck at the same time and from the same direction as Wonder Woman.

On the transporter deck, I commandeer the transporter controls to target the transporter pad at home in the cave. I find Alfred already in the cave when I arrive, my old friend just reaching the bottom of the staircase from the study.

"I trust everything went well, Master Bruce."

I nod. "Diana's following me to the manor. She should arrive at the front door shortly."

"Very good, sir. I take it you won't mind if I leave you to your own devices while I welcome the lady of the house home."

I chuckle as I begin removing my suit. "You're a wedding ceremony too early for that, Alfred." The elder man begins to climb the steps even as I speak.

"It couldn't hurt to get into the habit now, Master Bruce."

A thought enters my mind as I cross the cave towards the display cases. I stop a few feet from the glass. "Alfred," I call up the stairs.

The butler stops and turns back from nearly the top step. "Yes, Master Bruce?"

"Is it too late to prepare a few extra portions for dinner tonight?"

"I don't believe it will pose a problem, sir. Might I ask why?"

"I'm going to invite Barbara and Dick over."

Understanding fills Alfred's expression. "Then I would be most pleased to, sir."

I give Alfred my thanks before letting him leave. I make my way to the Batcomputer and immediately call Dick in Blüdhaven. I happen to catch him just after he comes in from his shift with the police department. He agrees to come to Gotham for dinner, enthusiastic about seeing Alfred and Tim but a little hesitant over my unexpected invitation.

Barbara is far more willing to come over, especially after I tell her that the invitation is expressly for dinner. The news that both Tim and Dick will both be there as well only serves to speed her along. I nearly ask if she could bring her father, but I think better of the idea and decide that Bruce Wayne can meet with the commissioner later to share the news.

After calling the two eldest of my young allies, I head upstairs, happy that Alfred had left a casual set of clothing for me in the cave. Once in the manor, I head for the entertainment room and find Tim Drake as expected. He greets me warmly and then asks what our plan is for the evening, so I tell him that Dick and Barbara will be joining us for dinner.

"What's the occasion, Bruce?" he asks before turning back to the TV to change the channel.

"Let's just call it a…family dinner, Tim."

He stops, looks at me with surprise, then gives a chuckle, nearly a snicker. "If this is the sort of effect we can expect Diana to have on you in the long-term, then I'm fine with her sticking around for a while."

I give a small groan and turn to leave. "Finish your homework."

He laughs outright as I depart. "Nice try, Bruce!" he calls after me. "And anyway, I've been done for over an hour."

From the hallway I head back to the foyer. It's empty when I arrive, so I head for the living room to keep an eye on the driveway for Dick and Barbara. I don't find Diana in the living room either, but I guess she's still upstairs changing or was perhaps delayed aboard the Watchtower.

It's a long wait, but after nearly an hour Dick is the first to arrive. Alfred and I meet in the foyer to greet him and I finally ask Alfred if he's seen Diana. He immediately apologizes and tells me that Diana arrived just as he got upstairs and told him she was going to the library after changing into something more appropriate for the evening.

Before I can turn to fetch Diana, there's a knock on the door and it swings open as Barbara comes in as well. The young woman gives Alfred a hug in greeting, then trades joyous greetings with myself and Dick. With our party all in the manor, though somewhat scattered about it, I decide it's time to eat.

"Alfred, is dinner ready?"

"Nearly, Master Bruce. By the time everyone is settled at the table, it certainly will be."

"Good. I'll go up to the library and get Diana. Tim's watching TV in the entertainment room."

"I'll grab Tim," Dick volunteers.

I nod my consent and then turn back to Alfred. "Alfred, make sure to set yourself a place at the head of the table."

He happily agrees before the four of us leave the foyer. It isn't long before I reach the library. I stop in the doorway and look out into the room.

I spot Diana immediately. She's sitting comfortably on the couch, the plush piece of furniture turned nearly away from me, leaving me looking over her left shoulder, skin left bare by her choice of dress. Her legs are crossed at the knee and I can see a book in her lap, the fingers of her left hand spread across the bottom edge spanning both pages. As I watch, she moves her hand, pressing her thumb against the right-hand page and lifting it away to continue reading.

I spend another moment looking her over before moving. I shift my gaze away from my ring on her finger and notice the dress she's wearing. It's the red dress she bought with Audrey in Paris and she's even wearing the red heels to match. _'An outfit I certainly wouldn't mind seeing her in more often…'_

At last I decide to enter the room. I make it nearly halfway to the couch before I realize that Diana hasn't noticed me yet and that I haven't made any noises. I let a playful smirk lift the corners of my mouth as I sidestep to place myself further behind her.

I approach carefully, stopping behind her and leaning down, looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse of her face before lifting my hands towards her. I let my thumbs brush against her hair as my hands pass the lush sheets of ebony. I'm a little surprised that she doesn't notice. I wrap my hands over her shoulders a moment later and that she does notice, giving a little jump before whipping her head around to look at me.

"Bruce! I didn't even hear you come in!"

"Good read?" I lean closer and we share a tender kiss before I allow Diana to reply.

She turns to the book as she closes it. "Interesting, yes, but no. I've known for a long time that the modern world is predominantly monotheistic, but I guess I hadn't realized that so many view the Olympian gods as merely part of an obsolete school of thought, endemic of an ancient society that just didn't know any better."

I frown. Religion isn't exactly a topic I want to discuss with Diana, but I really should state it clearly sooner than later. I let slip an uncomfortable sigh. "Truth be told, Diana, I don't believe in your gods, either." She turns to me, hurt. "Or anyone else's, for that matter. I haven't since my parents' murder." Her expression changes again, from slightly encouraged by my specification to depressed as I'm sure she remembers the evening they were taken from me and in an odd way, from her.

"I don't believe in any god, have faith in them as you do or any believer does, but I've met Hades face-to-face, fought him and his undead minions, met Circe and seen her magic, met Themis and stood on the shore of the Styx to question Medusa… I'd be a fool to deny they exist or to deny that they possess great power."

She smiles and I'm glad I won't have to say any more. "Thanks." She lifts the book from her lap and moves it to her right before slipping out from under my hands and lifting herself to her feet. "I imagine that's more than I could ask for from anyone else."

We meet by the arm of the couch and I drink in the sight of her wrapped in knee-length, sleeveless crimson. I lift my eyes back to her face and notice she seems to be a little embarrassed by my scrutiny. I smile before I feel her hands on my cheeks. I close my eyes to blink, hold them shut as I focus on the distinct feel of platinum against my skin. Diana begins to pull me down and I relax, letting her guide my lips to hers and kissing her as I encircle her with my arms and draw her body to mine.

"Diana, as much as I'd like to," I begin to say, cut off by another kiss from my fiancée, "…stay here and enjoy the privacy…" She interrupts me again and I catch myself before nearly cursing her delicious affections. "…everyone's waiting for us downstairs."

Diana immediately stops and leans away, dropping her hands to my shoulders. "Everyone?"

"I invited Dick and Barbara over for dinner."

"Ohh, that's just not fair!"

"What?"

"_I_ told _my_ friends on my own."

I make a face. "Really? You're going to complain about that?" I sigh to myself. "I still plan to tell the commissioner and Leslie on my own if it makes you feel any better."

She replies with exasperation. "I guess it'll have to do. Let's go, Bruce."

Together, we leave the library behind. She and I walk hand-in-hand down the stairs and to the dining hall. We arrive to find Alfred standing by the head of the table, in quiet conversation with Dick, sitting in my usual seat beside the head of the table.

Tim is the first to turn and notice us. "Finally!" he immediately exclaims. The others turn and Alfred quickly departs to fetch our meals.

I lead Diana to our side of the table across from Dick, Barbara, and Tim before anyone can greet Diana more formally and notice her ring while we still have yet to make our announcement. Fortunately, I'm to her left and her ringed hand is mostly hidden within my grasp.

We sit together and I make sure to hold my fiancée's hand as Diana trades greetings with the three of them. It isn't long after that Alfred arrives, sporting a tray with meals for half of us. He serves Diana and Barbara first, then gives me the third dish before departing for just a short few moments more to return with portions for Dick, Tim, and himself.

I trade a knowing glance with Diana just before we start eating, conveying my intent to wait until the end of our meal. She agrees and I content myself to a mostly backseat role in our conversations. My adoptive sons catch up with one another, my fiancée speaks with my butler and my long-time friend's daughter about life on Themyscira versus life in the modern world.

Dick enters their conversation as it winds down, pointing out that Themyscira's isolation and the similar case of Atlantis are somewhat reminiscent of Japan's self-imposed isolation. He points out that, if in no other way, the two nations formerly of myth face the same problem in the challenge of reintegrating with the world. He also points out that neither nation seems to be wholly committed to the efforts.

I narrow my eyes at Dick when I notice Diana tensing, taking offense at the young man's words. He gives me a knowing smirk in response. _'He must have figured it out!'_ I wonder for a moment if I taught him too well. He's testing Diana. He wants to see if he can get her riled up, see how she handles herself in such a situation.

Meanwhile, my fiancée finds her voice. "My mother and Aquaman have each gone to great lengths to integrate their nations with the rest of Man's World. When Mother asks it of me, I am happy to serve Themyscira as an ambassador."

Alfred stays silent, but narrows his eyes at Dick's right elbow as he lifts it to the table and leans over to rest his chin on his hand. "I'm sure you know that you're a celebrity in your own right, Diana, but you might not be aware that your ambassadorial assignments still make quite the splash in the news.

"It's been over a year since Themyscira expressed any interest in the politics of 'Man's World' and it's pretty much public knowledge that Aquaman doesn't care about anything beyond the oceans. He and his diplomats only come up long enough for some air and a chance to complain about water pollution and shipping lanes."

He doesn't give Diana the chance to interrupt. "What real interest does Themyscira have in world peace? Economic stability? The island will be protected by the Greek gods no matter what happens to the rest of us, right? We can pollute the skies until the worlds' population chokes and Themyscira will still have fair, blue skies, won't it?"

"Whoa! Dick, I thought we liked Diana!" Tim interjects in a whisper. Barbara sits beside him in shock and disbelief.

Meanwhile, Diana ignores Tim's protest and folds her arms below her bust, squeezing tight to keep her hands still. I can see her frustrations even from the side. Her control is the only thing that keeps me from interfering. Yet. "Then what of my efforts? Does the time I've spent here among Earth's people count for nothing? Does my ongoing presence not fly in the face of the notion that the Amazons do not care what happens to the rest of humanity?

"_I've_ certainly learned that people like Bruce and the Justice League, yourselves, and truly kind-hearted people like Alfred prove Mother wrong."

Dick smirks at me again, then straightens in his chair. He lifts his hands out over his nearly empty plate and begins to clap. "W—what are you doing?" Diana finally asks when she sees that his smile has become far more genuine.

"Congratulating you," he replies very matter-of-factly while lowering his hands back to the table. "Don't you have something you want to say to all of us?" Both lines, I can tell, are directed at the two of us.

Finally, Diana recognizes the test for what it is. She turns and I can tell she's about to accuse me of spoiling the surprise, but she stops short when she sees my expression. Instead she smiles and takes my right hand under the table. I interlock my fingers with hers and we twist our hands until her hand and ring are facing up.

I spend a moment gazing into Diana's mesmerizing blues before we come to a silent agreement. Together, we lift our hands onto the table. "Last night at dinner, I proposed to Diana," I start us off.

"And we're now engaged to be married," Diana finishes before we turn to each other. Now I see the smile, the happiness, the joy, and the elation I wanted to see at the founders' meeting at the end of the afternoon.

All of our tablemates applaud, thanks to Dick's initial response. Each then gives us their heartfelt congratulations, Diana thanking them aloud while I rub my thumb against her hand and reply to my friends and family silently. Even Alfred congratulates us, almost as if pretending he hadn't witnessed my proposal and Diana's answer.

Dick speaks up again soon after everyone quiets down. "Sorry I had to that, Diana. For all intents and purposes, Bruce is our adoptive father." He reaches over and puts his hand on Tim's shoulder to clarify. "You marrying him I guess makes you our adoptive mother…or step-mother, but who's keeping track? Don't get me wrong, we're happy for you and seeing a happy Bruce is certainly a sight to behold, but I hope you'll understand that we want to vet you before we let Bruce go through with it. I mean…" He pauses to chuckle while turning to me. "…after the last time…"

"Vet? Last time?" Diana quickly turns to me and her grip tightens. "You've been married?"

"Poison Ivy. Plant people. I told you about that when we first went to Gotham Delizioso."

"Though you neglected to tell me the part where you _actually_ got married," she accuses. Replaying the conversation in my mind, I know I can't argue the point. I turn from Diana on my right to Dick in the seat across from me. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly.

I stare at the younger man, hardening my gaze until he flinches. "It was annulled, along with everyone else's, when our pheromone-laden, garden-variety spouses convinced all of Gotham's elite to take the same newlyweds' honeymoon cruise on the same yacht and we found out that it was just so Ivy could gather us in one place for an easy kill." I let a moment or two of silence pass, then make my own move to redirect Diana's focus. "Why didn't I hear about this vetting process?"

Under my glare, Dick jumps at the opportunity to change subjects. "Yeah, because you'd have let me if you'd known beforehand…" He turns hastily to Diana. "Sorry, it wasn't that we would doubt you, Diana."

"You keep saying 'we,' but I didn't figure it out until they pulled their hands up and I saw the ring…" Tim cuts in.

Dick ruffles Tim's hair before continuing. "You're Wonder Woman, who am _I_…" He turns back to Tim in search of the teen's approval. "…to doubt you. And the old man was probably the last one here to figure out that he loves you…" He motions towards me with a sweep of his arm as he speaks.

He nearly leaves Diana enough time to ask for an explanation. "I don't think either of you is anything less than sincere, but you'll need to be more than just Wonder Woman if you want to rise above the public perception. The public version of Bruce Wayne that the tabloids love to write about is an ugly image that is _not_ marriage-friendly and in _definite_ need of a makeover."

I look around the table when Dick pauses, suddenly not sure why I'm allowing him to continue when I see from their expressions that Alfred, Tim, and Barbara all agree. I turn my head even further to my right. _'Even Diana?'_ I nearly remind her she already knows why I can't change my public self all at once.

"Well, I certainly can't picture anyone daring to call _Wonder Woman_ a gold digger, but isn't there an unofficial club for your jilted lovers, Bruce?" I groan in reply, but Barbara only continues. "A few people in the library started a betting pool for how long you two will last before…moving on, to put it amicably."

"As I've already told Diana, I have to move slowly, gradually shed the playboy image so people don't just think it's a short-lived act on my part to impress her. If I get to act more like myself and Diana gets painted in a positive light, I don't see a problem with it."

"I always thought the playboy image was meant to make you look like the worst possible candidate to be Batman," Tim notes. "Get rid of that and what're you going to do to protect all of us?"

"I haven't quite decided yet," I admit. "But who would question Diana if anyone were to ask if she ever noticed her husband disappearing at night."

"Are you asking me to lie, Bruce?"

"I'm asking you to help protect our peace outside of the costumes," I reply diplomatically. Fortunately, my fiancée soon agrees, though with a little reluctance about having to lie.

Our conversation dies out for a few minutes, but before long, Barbara speaks up. "So, who else knows? I can't imagine we're the first you've told…"

"Well, we told the other founders…" Diana replies, trailing off.

"How'd that go?" Tim asks.

Diana takes a deep breath before sighing with disappointment. "It…could have gone better. Kal…"

"Kent's been worried that I'd break Diana's heart since before our first date. He's still thinks that something will happen, so he wasn't exactly very supportive when she told him," I say before she can mention any of our dreams. I don't want Dick, Barbara, or Tim worrying about us as well. It's enough just having Alfred aware of our situation.

"Well, Miss Diana, I do believe it's safe to say that everyone at this table is very happy for you both." I turn to Alfred as he speaks, then glance back at Diana. Her expression warms as she looks to the elder man. She immediately thanks him, then everyone else.

"So, Bruce, you haven't told my dad yet?" Barbara asks.

"Or Leslie?" Dick adds.

"No, no, and don't tell them for me." I turn to Diana, making sure she's listening. "I'll tell them both myself."

"Just don't tell Leslie as Batman…" Tim advises. "You know what she thinks of how we all spend our evenings."

"Wait, is this the same Leslie Thompkins you told me about, Bruce? The old family friend?"

I turn to regard Diana as I reply. "Yes. She…dislikes that I've chosen to don the mantle of Batman. She likes that I've allowed Dick, Barbara, and Tim to join in my battle even less."

"Fortunately, the good Dr. Thompkins does appreciate the fact that Master Bruce's work has helped to improve Gotham."

Diana replies with understanding and Dick asks almost immediately after, "So, Diana, have you told anyone back on the island yet? I'm kind of curious how your mother reacted."

Diana drops her gaze to her ring. "Ahh…no. I haven't been back to Themyscira yet…" She lifts her gaze to my eyes, smiling for me before turning to Dick and the others. "I admit I've been worried about what her reaction would be, but I'm beginning to have hope that she will take the news well."

"Then what are you waiting for? Hold off on whatever you both plan to do publicly. First things first, Diana. As soon as you're ready for the day tomorrow morning, you should head back to the island to tell her the news." Barbara pauses a moment while Diana silently nods her agreement. "Your own mother definitely should _not_ be the last one to hear about this announcement."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.

So, this isn't exactly fanfic news, but I hope you won't mind me giving Young Justice a nod. I gave it a chance recently and I'm really enjoying it. Unfortunately, it and Green Lantern: The Animated Series are being canceled to make way for 'Beware The Batman' (a CGI followup to Batman: The Brave and the Bold with a more "serious tone") and 'Teen Titans Go!' ("a more comedic take on the DC Comics franchise"). According to the most recent bit of news on the Young Justice wikia, we've got about two months to increase its viewership to save it. So, catch up if you haven't, then tune in live Saturdays or Sundays at 10:30 a.m. EST, record it on your DVR, or log into Cartoon Network's site and watch the five most recent episodes online!


	12. Preparation

**Author's Note:** Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

* * *

Sunlight filters into my bedroom, rousing me from peaceful slumber. I look to my right, just as I've done to start my mornings for decades. I frown, reach across to the lonely pillow beside my own as I turn onto my side.

I've suffered waking up alone for six years, but the pain and the sadness are still fresh. Sometimes, the loneliness is so great it feels as though not a single day has passed, but the rest of the time it's a mere constant in the deepest corners of my mind—remembering when we were together, imagining us still together, and wishing we still were. Before I can lose myself to the emotions again, I lift myself from my bed, albeit reluctantly.

I head for the bathroom and take a long shower, letting myself relax under the water's heat. Lifting a hand to my face, I stare at my youthful skin that hides decades of life, battle, and most importantly, love. My greatest love is gone, having passed peacefully in our grand home of old age. I will be forever grateful that he did not leave me alone when he departed from Man's World.

I bore children by him. From a beautiful daughter and a handsome son our family grew. It was with joy that we watched them grow. It was with pride that we watched them live. They gave us both a new reason to fight, something more that we were privileged with the duty to protect.

Technically speaking, I'm retired and have been since the day Bruce stepped down from Wayne Enterprises. Still, I occasionally do consult for the League, where I have largely been replaced by newer heroes and champions of justice.

A few children of the original League are still active members. Many other members are third generation Leaguers. Of course, there are still more who are altogether new, drawn by circumstance into a life of duty to one's home, people, and planet.

Eventually, I push the thoughts away and turn off the water. I dry myself slowly, spending the time trying to guess what new things today will bring. Once satisfied, I wrap myself in my robe to begin getting ready for the day. Sticking to the routines that Bruce and I used to perform together is a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

When finally ready, I leave the master bedroom of Wayne Manor and head down for breakfast. "Morning, Grandma!" I hear from behind me almost before I take the first step past my doorway. I turn at the familiar voice, smile as my eyes find the youngest of my three granddaughters, my son's only girl.

"Good morning, Lynette. Are you just heading down to eat, too?"

The twelve-year-old nods as we fall in step with one another and proceed to the foyer. "We're the last ones. I _would_ have been the first, but Dad came in just before everyone started sitting down at the table and made me come back upstairs to change. He said I'll have to wait at least until the weekend if I want to eat in my pajamas."

I laugh as I lift Lynette from the floor and hold her close. "Can we touch the ceiling again today, Grandma?" she asks hopefully.

I smile. _'I can't say no to those eyes.'_ She knows it, too. "Of course," I reply as I lift myself and my granddaughter from the floor. We float up as we pass over the railing, eventually coming close enough for both Lynette and me to reach up together to touch the ceiling of Wayne Manor's grand foyer.

She giggles to herself and hugs me tight as I bring us back down to the floor. "I can't wait until I can do that on my own!"

"Soon, my little one," I laugh as I let her go. She beams with joy before turning excitedly towards the dining hall.

She begins running a moment later. "Lynette Wayne, don't run in the hallways!" I call after her. She slows considerably and replies with an apology, leaving me to follow her with a smile at my own pace.

The dining hall is already a flurry of activity as I enter. I am the eighteenth and final Wayne to enter the room. Alexis, my daughter and the first of my two children, rises from her seat as everyone greets me. I reply to my family as I walk up along my son's side of the table and take my seat as matriarch at the end.

My daughter comes back a few moments later. She reaches around from behind me with a plate of waffles. "Here you go, Mom. The boys went with the easy route on breakfast this morning."

My middle grandson, Thomas, defends, "What can I say? We had a late night last night…and those of us who weren't on duty didn't exactly help by staying up late to watch TV…" Alexis's second son turns, looking across the table at his younger cousin.

"So I couldn't get to sleep…" Nathan replies. "At least I finished studying for all of today's mid-terms first…"

"Anyway," Alexis cuts in with a laugh. She reaches out with her other hand and sets a cup down in front of me. "Here's your iced mocha, Mom."

"Thank you, Alexis," I respond. My hands go right for the delicious beverage. "You'd think I looked my age, the way all of you treat me sometimes," I laugh before taking a long sip.

"Well…look at it like this: you're our mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. We all owe you a lot and we know you could have gone back to Themyscira whenever you wanted, so we're all the more grateful to have you here with us. It's thanks to you and Dad that any of us are even here at all and Dad told me at least a couple times that if it hadn't been for you, he'd have died alone. It's the least we could do to thank you, Mom."

I turn to the middle-aged head of Wayne Enterprises. "Thank you, Daniel. It's only because of all of you that I stayed." I cast a smile down the table and then close my eyes as I take another sip of my mocha.

Without warning, the perfect mix of caffeine and chocolate vanishes from my mouth and my eyes flash open with surprise. I blankly stare up for a couple moments before relaxing. I take a deep breath and sit up. I draw in a second, then sigh as I look down toward the foot of my bed.

I lift my knees under the covers and drop my head between them, lifting my elbows to my knees and reaching towards the back of my head. I weave my fingers into my hair behind my ears and begin to rub my head as a tired groan escapes me. My fingers slow and I replay this morning's dream in my mind.

I take the whole dream on faith. I practically have to. I'm sure above all else that having a family after Bruce's passing would be the only thing that could keep me from leaving Man's World behind. _'…From fleeing…'_

In an odd way, the dream is uplifting. After all, I remember a particular sense of pride I felt towards the young Lynette. I can't help but wonder if perhaps she was aiming to take up the mantle of Wonder Woman since I had retired. I simply can't ignore that I was happy, but I can still feel the saddening weight of a world without Bruce even now.

I exited my lonely room and was quickly surrounded by a family all my own. I walked into the dining hall of the ancestral manor too large for even four people and was greeted by a son and daughter, seven grandchildren, three great-grandchildren, and five in-laws spread across two generations.

More than any other, one thing about the dream encourages me in the here and now: how long I'd been without Bruce. It was a mere six years. If anything could give me hope about the unknown we creep ever closer to, it's the promise of a long life peaceful enough for me to retire from heroism.

I try to think back, determine who in our family inherited the mantle of Batman and who took on the roles of his allies. The effort is fruitless. Such informative thoughts never crossed my mind during the slice of the future I experienced. I'm not even sure of everyone's names. My initial greeting in the dining hall had been to the table as a whole, the only specific names I learned were Alexis, Daniel, Thomas, Nathan, and Lynette.

Finally, I pull myself from my reflections and rise, floating a scant few inches off the floor on my way to the bathroom in a fit of tired laziness. As I step under the running shower water, my mind returns to my present and one thought fills my mind: _'Today will be…interesting…'_

In a way, it's funny that I should even think that after all that happened yesterday afternoon and evening. I've had my joy trampled on by my best friend, I've come to find out that half of my closest allies and friends have been warned repeatedly of a tragedy set to befall me and my fiancé, and I've been subjected to a verbal test by the elder of my fiancé's adopted sons. It wasn't until after that news of our engagement earned the celebration I had expected from the start.

It's almost frightening, to think that today could top it, but before the end of last night, I'd been convinced to deliver the news of my engagement to my mother. For a long time, I'd have preferred being tasked with driving Hades back to Tartarus. _'…Alone… Hogtie—no! Bad memories…'_ I groan and rub my hands vigorously against my face. _'Ok… I definitely need to ask J'onn about blocking those memories back off…'_

I'd forgotten how little I really knew of the encounter Bruce and I had with Circe. Unfortunately, asking Zatanna about her involvement with Bruce's investigations and her mention of the ancient witch had eventually reignited my forgotten curiosities. Bruce had never been very helpful in the matter. I could tell he was hiding something, but exactly what I was never sure of until I consulted J'onn.

His exploration of the blocks in my mind had successfully returned my memories to me. Of course, I then had to wrestle with the experience of being something so…inhuman. For a long time after, it was a battle to force myself to eat pork and ham. I couldn't help but remember what nearly happened to me whenever I saw it on my plate, though I had to eat to keep from making those around me worry and wonder.

The oddest of all was that when the blocks were removed, I actually remembered when Bruce brought me to Zatanna. The experience was as much pleasant as it was confusing. Looking back on it, Bruce's behavior was so very…vexing. As a pig, he treated me nearly with affection. In my animal mind, I recognized his comforts and did what I could to show my appreciation. However, as a person at nearly the same time, he held me at arm's length, clearly _wanting_ more but unwilling to let things between us progress.

With a shake of my head, I turn around. I lift my hands to turn off the shower, knowing I must push such thoughts from my head. _'I'm only distracting myself from the inevitable.'_ I hurry through the remainder of my morning routine and exit my room donning my armor and my engagement ring, ready if in no other way than physically to return to Themyscira and confront my mother.

"Ah! Good morning, Miss Diana!" I hear as I turn around from closing my bedroom door.

I continue to spin and find Alfred coming out of Bruce's room. I respond in kind while stepping away from the door. _'Come to think of it, the boys cooked breakfast... I wonder if the family does most of the work maintaining the manor without Alfred around. I guess I can't really see Bruce trusting the manor and its secrets to anyone else...'_

"I take it that you are all but ready to depart for Themyscira, Miss Diana?" I nod in reply. "I hope you won't mind delaying a few minutes to have breakfast first. Why, you might even give Master Bruce enough time to finish preparing for the day."

"Thank you, Alfred. I would certainly appreciate that." I pause as the old butler smiles for me. "Ahh, Alfred? Would you mind entertaining a slightly...odd request?"

"I will gladly hear you out and I'll certainly do what I can. What would you like?"

I get the feeling he somehow knows what I'll ask and I feel a little embarrassed about asking. I look down and smile as I sink my head between my shoulders in a manner perhaps a little too demure for Wonder Woman. I lift my eyes back to the curious face of Alfred Pennyworth. "Can we have waffles for breakfast?"

Alfred looks back at me a little surprised, but he masks it quickly with a bright smile. "Of course, Miss Diana. It won't be any trouble at all. I'll get started right away."

I barely have time to thank him before he turns and disappears down the hallway. I follow after a short minute spent in thought.

I find I can't help myself again when I reach the foyer. I take a look back up the hall towards my room and Bruce's master bedroom beside it, then check quickly for Tim. Smiling again to myself, I hop into the air and over the railing. A moment later, I lift my hand and reach up, touching the ceiling briefly before floating very slowly back to the ground.

"And _what_, might I ask, are you doing?" I hear the moment my feet touch the floor. I spin around quickly and look up to see Bruce leaning over the second floor railing at the end of our hallway.

"Bruce!" He's got his head propped up on his left hand and there's an amused grin painted across his lips. "How...long have you been watching me?"

His smile widens. "Since about when your feet passed over the rail..."

I feel my cheeks flush crimson. Still, even despite my embarrassment, all I can do is remember what I felt thinking about him when I first woke up. I feel relieved. _'Relieved and...perhaps a bit aroused,'_ I admit to myself as I stare at my fiancé and remember the desirous longing I felt for him alongside the lonely sadness in my dream.

"That's a different look," I say mostly to distract myself, hoping he'll forget his line of thought as well.

He pauses with an inquisitive hum and stands straight, looking down himself. He straightens the black suit jacket and then tucks his red tie in to smooth it out. "You normally wear something a little more tan to the office, don't you?"

He smiles as he comes around, begins down the stairs beside me. Our eyes remain locked as he moves and I turn to follow him. "Well," he begins as I finally lift my feet to go meet him at the bottom of the stairs, "I was hoping to make a good impression…"

I think to ask, but the emotions from my dream are overpowering. Increasingly, I feel as though I need to make sure he's real. My step quickens as I approach until I near enough collide with Bruce and wrap my arms tightly around him. For at least a third time this morning, I can't help myself and put my head on his shoulder, even rubbing my cheek against his affectionately.

Understandably, he's hesitant to return my embrace and when one of us finally breaks the silence, it's him. "I'm happy to see you, too, Diana, but I…can't help but think that I'm missing something here." His arms encircle me and I release a slightly staggered exhale as my hands slowly wander his back.

"Sorry," I reply as I gather myself and try again to overcome my remembered emotions. "I…had a dream this morning and in it…you were…" I feel a twitch run down his arms all the way out to his fingertips. I feel the next words on the tip of my tongue, but I just don't want to say them aloud, don't want to acknowledge them.

"…You don't have to say any more, Diana," he tells me after a few moments of silence.

I take a deep breath, refocus. "What did you mean about making an impression, anyhow?" I ask to once more divert our attentions.

He lifts a hand to the back of my head, stroking my hair comfortingly as if seeing clearly through my reasoning. "I was thinking about your mother. She'll need to meet Bruce Wayne sooner or later, won't she? I think I'd rather get it over with sooner than later."

I lean back to look Bruce in the eye. His hand falls down to the back of my neck and I can feel my long locks rolling against each other and even between his skin and mine as he begins moving it slowly back and forth. He pulls his left hand from my back and plays it along my side as he waits for my response, sending little shivers up my spine.

"I can't," I finally answer, my voice low and apologetic.

His expression shows only understanding. "Themysciran law?"

"That and…" I pause. _'…after this morning's dream and where this embrace looks to be going, I don't know if I could control myself locked up with you in a cramped invisible jet for hours on end. I want you as much for my arousal as for my loneliness…'_ Though I can't bring myself to say all _that_ aloud. "…too much lingering emotion from this morning's dream," I truthfully simplify.

Bruce nods, again with understanding. His hands pull me flush against him and he takes my lips with an insistent passion. I raise my right arm and wrap it over his shoulder as I return the kiss and more than match his passion, giving him my most sincere expression of the heart. He tightens his grip comfortingly in response, making me wonder if he might be a telepath before he begins to caress my shoulders and sides as our lips glide sensually against one another.

I pull my lips just far enough from Bruce's to whisper, "Thank you." Immediately, he silences me with another kiss. His hands drop down my sides and I have a feeling I know what he plans to do. I break our kiss again, but before I can speak, his lips dart past my mouth and he kisses the hinge of my jaw on my right side.

My head tips itself to my left without me thinking about it. Bruce, meanwhile, begins to plant a tender trail of kisses down my neck. I feel his teeth as he nips once at my skin and I give a little gasp. His open lips hover just over my skin before he kisses out along the top of my shoulder, only to come right back towards my neck afterwards.

He pauses where the muscles from atop my shoulder meet my neck and his lips close in a tight seal against my skin. I feel a light puff from his breath across my nape and then I moan his name as he begins to suck. It's gentle at first, but it grows quickly more forceful.

Finally he stops, lets me go with his lips. "A little something to hold you over until you get back from the island…" He kisses again at the spot his lips just left. I notice his hands on my hips and I admit to myself that I forgot about them as he reaches behind me and squeezes my rear with both hands. He lifts me with that grip and his lips begin again to move.

He keeps me against him as he lifts me higher, my toes eventually hanging just above the floor. At the same time, he kisses his way to my collarbone. He works his way slowly to its center as I move my hands to his right shoulder and the back of his head. His lips drop into the gap between my clavicles and he sucks very gently as he kisses along the edges.

He opens his eyes and his gaze meets mine as he begins to lift his head. I read his intent perfectly and lean closer as he brings his lips back to mine. We kiss passionately again and I take control of my altitude, freeing both his hands and mine to wander while I lean closer and force his head back so I can kiss him from above.

Before long, I hear a creak from my left and quickly lift my head away to look up the stairs. I see Tim trying to creep down past us. He stops the moment I move my head. "Ahh…good morning…" He laughs nervously.

I quickly rein myself in and drop back to the floor in front of Bruce as he removes his hands from my lower back and the back of my left thigh. We both straighten our clothes, though the effort does me little good in my armor, and then turn to face him. I notice him staring at me as Bruce and I return his greeting, though it isn't my face that seems to have his attention. I open my mouth to ask if something about my appearance seems wrong when he realizes he's been caught and hurries off in search of Alfred and breakfast.

I look to Bruce and see him smirking knowingly in Tim's direction. "What?" I ask. He turns and the arrogant grin drops abruptly from his lips.

"Don't worry about it, Diana." He takes a moment to hook his arm around my own. "Come on. Let's see what Alfred prepared for breakfast."

I push my curiosity aside as mention of the coming meal reminds me of my requested menu. An amused giggle escapes my lips as I take our first step after Tim and towards the dining hall. "Just to forewarn you, Bruce, this one's on me."

"What?" he asks, but I only laugh again in reply.

Five minutes later, we're all seated at the table when Alfred comes into the dining room with a butter tray and a seemingly expensive glass bottle of syrup. Bruce immediately reaches out and snatches it up from the middle of the table. "Syrup?" His disbelief and skepticism are unmistakable.

"But of course, Master Bruce!" Alfred turns with a smile to Tim and then to me. "It will be just a moment more before breakfast is served."

He quickly departs before any of us can say another word. He's back almost as quickly with a set of plates in one hand and a covered tray in the other. He sets the tray in the middle of the table close enough that all three of us can reach it without difficulty. He delivers a plate to each of our places at the table, then turns his attention again to the tray.

My smile widens as he lifts the cover away. Bruce lifts an eyebrow as the silver cover reveals a stack of golden waffles. Tim laughs excitedly. Alfred smiles with amusement and then slides my plate towards the tray, uses a small spatula beside the stack of waffles to serve me its top two.

"Here you are, Miss Diana," he says while sliding my plate back between my silverware. "Master Timothy," he says shortly after repeating the process and returning Tim's plate to his place. "Master Bruce," he says when he finally gives Bruce's plate back. Three waffles remain on the tray when he's done, an extra for each of us.

"Thank you, Alfred. I hope it wasn't too much trouble to make them."

He turns to me and places a reassuring hand on the end of my left shoulder. "Not at all, Miss Diana. I was happy to make them."

I nod in appreciative acknowledgment before I turn back to look across the table. I see that Tim wasted no time beginning to eat. Beside him a reticent Bruce has divided both of his waffles into halves. He butters them lightly before stacking all but one. The lone half he begins to meticulously cut into smaller bites.

After observing my tablemates for another moment, I join the two men and begin my meal. I follow Bruce's example, though I use both butter and syrup. When I've cut my first half into smaller bites, I decide it's time to try some and pick up an edge piece with my fork.

A drop of syrup gathers on its underside as I lift it from my plate. I pause for moment, watching the viscous golden brown liquid gather for just a little longer before turning it quickly over and popping it into my mouth.

Syrupy sweetness fills my mouth. The edges are a little crisp. The waffle inside is soft, more than a little sweet in and of itself, and within it I can taste hints of the butter I used. I give a sharp hum of delight as I begin to chew.

Across the table, Tim laughs as I swallow and begin turning my focus back to my plate. "What?" I ask while looking to the young man. I expect him to be looking at me, but he's staring at Bruce.

He chuckles again, then takes a rather big bite of waffle. "I just never thought I'd see Bruce eat a waffle…" he says after swallowing. He taps the end of his fork against his lower lip. "I guess I've always sort of thought of waffles and pancakes as being sort of like…you know, the fun breakfasts." He turns to me, leans over his food. "So, does this mean you're going to be the 'fun parent,' Diana?"

My heart catches on 'parent.' The corners of my lips turn upwards and I feel the heat on my face as my cheeks flush. After a moment, I turn to Bruce as I smirk. "Maybe," I say with a pointed smugness to avoid any questions about my blush. Bruce replies with an amused humph and then begins to wolf down his waffle.

He doesn't stop until the waffle half before him is gone. He pulls the next half from the stack on the far side of his plate and begins to cut it. He smirks back at me as he works. His almost haughty expression dares me to try again to rile him, to try assigning him to the role of the boring one. Instead, I laugh. Bruce and Tim get a chuckle out of it as well.

As our laughter fades, we again focus on our meals. Even as I enjoy each bite of Alfred's perfect waffles, my mind wanders. I think about not being the "fun parent," as Tim put it, but a parent at all. My dreams play in my mind all at once, sharing a meal with my young family on the savanna, sharing a meal with my whole family in Wayne Manor, waking up to Bruce's return in the middle of the night and nearly having him before truly waking up.

I ignore my real surroundings for a few minutes longer as the images, sounds, and sensations wash over me. My emotions swirl about my heart before I finally feel a spark of determination. _'That's it, I don't care what Mother says. I'm marrying Bruce for myself, for us, and for our future. I will not go to Themyscira to beg for her permission, I will go only to inform Mother and my sisters of my decision. I cannot let their issues with men continue to be mine.'_

Before long, we each finish, Tim first and Bruce second. I spend the most time on my meal, for a short while eating slowly to savor each bite before realizing that there was more on my plate than I had thought.

It seems that Alfred has a camera watching the dining hall, he arrives for our dishes almost before I finish. He turns to me as he leans in to fetch my utensils. "I trust you enjoyed them, Miss Diana."

I nod emphatically in reply. "They were perfect, Alfred. I hope you won't mind me asking for them again."

"As I have said, it wasn't a problem at—" He pauses abruptly, staring at me. I ask what's wrong after a few moments. He replies by standing straight again and asking, "Correct me if I'm mistaken, Miss Diana, but you intend to visit your mother today, don't you?"

"Yes…" He's making me a little nervous. "Why do you ask?"

He lifts a finger, a silent request for my patience. He crosses the room quickly, exits into the hallway past the far end of the table. I look to Bruce and Tim. The elder man is again smirking while the younger is trying to look away. I nearly call my fiancé out when Alfred returns. He has a small, personal mirror in his hands. He approaches from my right and holds the mirror up. I look at my reflection for a moment before glancing up with bewilderment at the old man.

"Especially around your mother, you may find it most prudent to adjust how you wear your hair, Miss Diana." He turns the mirror as he speaks. I turn back to the mirror as its image shifts, reflecting my chin, neck, and the top of my right shoulder. Then I see it, at the base of my neck. "I doubt very much that your mother would appreciate the explanation behind _that_ erythema."

I know exactly how the unmistakable mark got there and my face reddens as I stare at it. My hand shoots up and I feel at the spot with the tips of my first two fingers. "Bruce...you did this on purpose, didn't you?"

He replies with a chuckle and I smile in mixed frustration and amusement despite myself. I pull my hair forward over my shoulder while turning to the mirror again. I play around with it, experimenting until I finally have a lock of hair in front of both shoulders that seems intentional and hopefully won't raise any questions with Mother and my Amazonian sisters.

"Alright," I begin before standing, "I'm going to leave before you have a chance to give me any more embarrassing marks that Mother would notice."

To that end, Alfred offers to handle the Batcave for me. I rise with an appreciative nod and follow the old butler out to the hallway. He pauses to place the mirror on a small table near a window before we head for the study.

Alfred leads me downstairs. I tell him I won't need anything when he asks about my empty-handedness. He makes his way to the Batcomputer as I go towards my parked invisible jet, using my League communicator to open its canopy remotely. The doors to the runway part as I float towards the cockpit. I turn back towards Alfred to thank him again before dropping myself into the pilot's seat.

A few short minutes later, I'm on my way east, across the Atlantic and towards the island paradise where I was born. Little occupies my mind as I fly, though I occasionally remember my dreams and my fiancé, making me all the more conflicted about refusing his request to join me. The flight lasts for hours on end. Four pass by the time I am finally close enough to see Themyscira.

I land my invisible plane gently on the western beach, climb out and I am immediately swept up by an unexpected wave of nostalgia. I pause, take a look around. _'This is the beach!' _I realize quickly, _'This is where Mother and I were when I first decided to disobey her, when I decided to venture out into Man's World…'_

I approach the water's edge. Unthinkingly, I lift my arms, fold them across my bust and stare out over the water. I slide my feet apart in the sands and sigh. I lose myself, trying to figure out what I will say, how I break the news to Mother, wondering if she will condone my marriage to a man and trying at least to merely doubt it. I of course have hopes born from what I wish to be accurate glimpses of my future, but I have no idea how much work it will take before she will be willing to come to Gotham.

"Welcome home, my little sun and stars." I jump a little at the interrupting words and spin quickly around to my left. My hands come up defensively, but I quickly see they aren't needed.

"Mother!" I look back up the sand, see my queen and mother on horseback nearly a dozen yards away. "How did you know I was here?" I ask while turning to face her and pulling my hair over my shoulder to make sure it's in place.

"I would be lying if I said I did, Diana." I begin walking up the beach and meet Mother beside her horse as she dismounts. "I have fallen into the habit of coming here after lunch each day that you are not home." She smiles to me as she takes a firm grip on her horse's reins and turns back to me. "Though I admit Athena advised me not to change my routine this afternoon…"

I smile back and lift my arms, embracing my mother tightly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Diana?" she asks when we separate soon after. My smile widens, but she mistakes my reason. "Have you finally finished your work in Man's World and decided to return to us?"

My lips fall into a solemn frown and as the hope drains from her expression, a part of me wishes I did not have to disappoint my one and only mother in this way. "No." I shake my head once and add, "I am here for only a short visit, Mother."

"I see…" It's painful to hear her disheartened words.

"Come, Mother," I say as I gesture towards a rock jutting up through the sands near the edge of the forests. I relieve her of her horse's reins and lead my queen and her mare over the sand.

When we arrive, I swiftly tether the horse to a nearby tree and then join Mother sitting atop the bench-like stone. "I have a few confessions to make, Mother," I say evenly, hoping to keep the atmosphere between us at least neutral until I've said all I came to say.

She places her hands on my knee and shoulder. "I am of course here for you, Diana," she encouragingly replies.

_'We'll see how long that support lasts…'_ I can't help commenting to myself. I might as well start big. "I've fallen in love, Mother…with a man…" Her hands jump, her left leaving my knee and her right pushing my shoulder to turn me towards her. She begins to say my name in disbelief, but I cut her short. "Please! Hear me out first, Mother."

She stops. Her other hand leaves me as well and I look her in the eye as she straightens, a disapproving frown on her face despite her compliance. "Who?" she asks in simple prompt.

I smile. "Do you remember the men I brought with me to Themyscira when I first returned?" She nods with growing concern. "The quiet one dressed in black, Batman. His real name is Bruce Wayne. I'm dating his public self."

"Diana!" Mother chastises. "Of all the men on Earth, of the four you brought here, you chose the one unwilling to attack his opponents head-on, the one who preferred to let you and his brothers-in-arms attack for him? It was his absence you bemoaned with so much frustration at your friend's funeral, wasn't it?"

"He's hardly a coward, Mother!" I defend without even thinking about it. My reading of her words proves correct if the shift in her expression means anything at all. "He is not only a mortal, but without such powers as so many of us in the Justice League possess. His methods are often very different from ours, but he is still very good at what he does. Besides, he refused to attend the funeral because he was the only one in the world not convinced that Kal had been killed. As it turns out, he was correct. Granted, there wasn't anything that we could have done to hurry his return."

Mother holds her silence for a moment and I can't help but wish she'd had something to say in response. Reminding myself of the Kryptonian brings back the more painful of yesterday's experiences. Of course, I know I can't tell her about everyone's dreams. Not yet, not without any explanation. There's more I want to say, _need_ to say first.

"Mother…" I close my eyes, lift my head and turn it to her. "I came to tell you that Bruce has asked me to marry him." I open my eyes slowly. "And I accepted."

She is speechless and, needless to say, shocked, but I still have more to tell her. "I am more than happy to accept him, but Bruce and I have been experiencing glimpses of our past, present, and future in what we believe to be dreams touched by Apollo." I turn away, look down at my knees as I cup my right hand in my left.

"It's thanks to those dreams that I think I'm beginning to understand how you felt, Mother…"

"What do you mean, Diana?"

I lift my head again, turn towards her. "I want a family of my own." Her eyes widen. "…And I want to build it with Bruce. We've both glimpsed a future of parenthood." I straighten, pull my hands apart and slide them back to about halfway up my thighs. "I intend to marry Bruce, Mother. I came because I want you to know, not to ask your permission...though I am not averse to your blessings."

My words do nothing to lessen her surprise. My sincere, hopeful expression probably doesn't help much. I can't imagine the thoughts and feelings swirling about her mind right now—not that I'm incapable, but rather I'm afraid that my confidence and determination will falter if I do. Even so, I try to hope that, of everyone on Themyscira, my mother will be able to see that my mind is made up and that it will do no good trying to convince me to change it.

"Diana…" she begins hesitantly, "You are still young, perhaps too young to begin a family."

I nearly sigh with disappointment. Instead, I drop my voice to a gentle whisper. "And how old were you, Mother, when you first desired a child?" She turns away. I'm not sure I feel a sense of victory over the short-lived argument.

"Then what of this Bruce Wayne? He is mortal, Diana! What happens when you watch him grow old and die? If he is taken from you by the evil in Man's World?" I watch as she turns back, her eyes alight with sincere and motherly concern. "How do you protect your heart from breaking when you outlive him? How do you cope, as I must every day, with the fear of outliving your child…your grandchild…your great-grandchild?"

I immediately remember this morning's dream. My pain, my happiness. I let the emotions overtake me and I smile while turning my shoulders, an unexpected reaction, clearly. I take Mother's right hand between both of mine and affectionately squeeze. "I accept that each passing is inevitable. I remember the positive when the negatives threaten to crush my heart. Most of all, I keep in mind that I am not alone."

A rueful smile crosses her lips. "You speak as though you have already experienced these pains first-hand, my little sun and stars."

A nod is my only reply. Mother is still and silent for a few moments, but she soon pulls her hand from mine and wraps her arms around me in a great hug. I lean into her automatically, take immense comfort in her embrace.

"I dreamt it this morning…" I start to say before I realize. I pause, wonder if this is an inherent power all mothers share before deciding that I might as well finish. "Bruce had passed on and left me behind, but I was not alone. We had children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren before he died. I felt the heartbreaking pain of his absence, but I was also happy, happy that I had the company of so large a family and happy that the bonds we shared gave me the courage to stay."

She sighs again. Exasperation. "Diana, as an Amazon and as your queen, I cannot support your decision." My face falls. "…But as your mother, I might be willing to condone it…"

My expression brightens instantly. "Really?" I ask with my newfound hope.

She nods. "If you will fulfill two promises, Diana."

I can't help worry what she might ask, but it doesn't dampen my optimism. "What?"

"If I deem him worthy of you, I will condone your marriage to this Bruce Wayne." My eyes widen at Mother's words. "Once Man's World recognizes your union, I will allow you to bring him here to Themyscira so that we may judge the man you give yourself to.

"After that, I only ask that you do not exclude us from your life or that of your family. Your daughters will always be welcome on Themyscira, but perhaps for any sons you may have, it would be best for me to visit Man's World."

I smile and nod enthusiastically. "Yes! Of course! I'm sure we'll all be happy to have you in Gotham." I turn more fully and take her hand, squeezing it in appreciation. _'That was pretty much too easy.'_

"Gotham? Why don't you tell me about this—" With a start, Mother pauses. She narrows her eyes for a moment and then leans toward me. "Diana, what happened to your shoulder?" I straighten immediately and lift my right hand to cover the little memento Bruce gave me. "Diana," she says with regal authority.

I close my eyes with embarrassment and hesitantly remove my hand. She sweeps my hair back behind my shoulders. "How did you get this?"

"Bruce…" I begin, unsure how to explain this… _'Oh, what did Alfred call it? Oh! An erythema.'_

Her cheek just below her left eye twitches with rage as I think. "You let this man _mark you_?"

I can't answer, not yet. I need to figure out how to diffuse this clearly escalating situation before I say anything. Unfortunately, Mother doesn't take well to my silence. "Diana!" she chides, forcing my reply.

"Mother, please! It's just an erythema." I only hope I sound as knowledgeable as I'm pretending to be. "It's not permanent. I'm sure it'll fade away in a day or two."

She stares pensively at the redness atop my shoulder and I already know I don't like the look of her expression. "Diana," she begins all too softly, "I want you to reconsider your intent to marry this man, this Bruce Wayne."

"I am _not_ changing my mind, Mother." I sigh in exasperation and pull my hair back into place over my shoulder as I turn forward again. I can't help but begin to blame my absent fiancé for my current trouble. _'I'll bet he expected—no! I bet he hoped mother would see! He probably did it to get back at me for refusing to let him come with me today… Oh—he's lucky that cowl covers the sides of his neck!'_

It's a long silence that follows. Finally, she breaks it, saying simply, "Very well." Mother stands up from her place beside me as I turn and my eyes follow her up. "The consequences of this decision will be yours alone to bear." She steps around in front of me, lifts her hands to my shoulders. "…And, I pray, so too will the rewards be yours alone to reap."

My expression quickly warms. "Thank you." I stand, again embrace my mother. She wraps her arms around me in return.

Before too long, we separate, her hands again stopping on my shoulders. "Never forget, my little sun and stars, that I will always be here, that _we_ will always be here, whenever you need us."

I thank her again and we take a few moments to say our farewells. Finally, I return to the shore with my mother trailing behind. I jump into the air and open the cockpit of my invisible jet.

The canopy closes over me as I start the craft's engines. I know she won't see it, but I still can't help myself from waving back at Mother when I look down and see her waving up at me. I smile, pleased enough with my mother's approval and glad that I did not have to confront all of my Amazon sisters. I'll leave that duty to Mother for now, at least until I come back with Bruce when we're married.

The thought reminds me of what needs to come next. There's much planning to do. I need to know what Bruce wants and sit down to determine what I want for our wedding as well. When I get home to the manor, I'll have to start dedicating my free time to preparation.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.


	13. Enthusiasm

**Author's Note:** Wow, what a delay—and barely managing to post on Wednesday. Character ownership goes to DC Comics.

* * *

I open my eyes as the last of the transporter's light fades away and look up the stairs and across the landing at the front entrance of Wayne Manor. I sigh with exhaustion. _'I swear, if there's another earthquake before the end of the week… Right now, I don't want to do anything but have dinner…and…curl up on the couch with Bruce…that'd be nice…'_

I lift my left hand to my head, comb my hair back from over my eye with my fingertips, then sigh again as I take my first step toward the stairs that I don't feel like climbing. I make it three feet before I lift myself into the air and float the rest of the way to the door.

Luckily, the door opens as first my toes and then my heels touch back down on the landing. "Good evening, Miss Diana!" Alfred enthusiastically greets.

"Evening, Alfred," I reply, doing nothing to hide my fatigue from the kindly butler. He steps aside as curiosity begins to light his face and I follow him insise. Thank you," I add as I step past him and he closes the door behind me.

"I believe it's safe to assume you've had a long day, Miss Diana." I nod in reply as I make the effort to stand straight again.

"Kal, Wally, and I responded to a series of earthquakes today." I pause, my expression souring almost unintentionally. "Well, Wally and I did, anyway. Kal got called away for something in Metropolis while we were wrapping up at the first site. I spent the rest of the day holding buildings up while Flash evacuated civilians who couldn't get out on their own."

"My word! And you had no other help?"

"Well, yes, we did, but Mr. Terrific kept Wally and I teamed up and working independently. That let him assume tactical control of the situation to minimize confusion along the chain of command."

He responds only with silence, standing still for a few moments in careful consideration before finally nodding. He waits a moment more before finally speaking. "Might I assume you intend to change before dinner?"

"Yeah." The change of clothes will help me to relax. At least I'd like to think so. "I think I'll take a quick shower, too. Why do you ask?"

He presents me with a gentle smile. "When you're done, have a seat in the sitting room and wait for me. I have an old story that might just help to lift your spirits."

"Alright. What about Bruce?"

"He's occupying himself downstairs, fortunately, and won't be a problem."

"A problem? What do you mean?"

His perfect smile gives way to the barest hints of a knowing grin. "For now, let us just say that it is a story Master Bruce might not want you to hear, but one that you, as his betrothed, will want _very much_ to know…"

I have to admit, _that_ piques my interest. I tell Alfred I'll try to hurry before hopping into the air and lifting myself up over the railing at the top of the stairs. After a quick walk down the hall to my room, I feel like I already have a little more energy.

I rush through my shower and slow down only when it's time to dry my hair. Once ready, I walk relaxedly towards the sitting room. Immediately upon entering, my gaze is pulled to the grand portrait of my late soon-to-be parents-in-law.

I pause just inside the door and my body begins to remember my fatigue as the portrait continues to hold my attention. Finally, I lift my feet and make my way to one of the expensive chairs facing the fireplace. The chair's facing doesn't do me much good. Before long, I'm reliving the old memory that has dominated so much of Bruce's life and even directly impacted my own.

With my mind's eye, I watch once more as a man spills forth from the alley's shadows and steps out in front of them. Before the scene can continue, a voice calls out to me, "Ahh, there you are, Miss Diana!"

I quickly turn my head to the doorway and sit straighter, lifting my hands to my sides and then my collar to pull my shirt taut across my back. "Alfred! I was just…" Words fail me and as I try to think of how to finish my sentence, I realize all I'm trying to do is defend my thoughts.

Alfred gives me a sad smile as he turns up to the portrait of the Waynes. "It would seem there will be another positive to telling you this story."

I notice a thick black book held under his left arm just before he lifts it in front of himself and joins his left hand with his right holding it up. "What's that?" I ask while leaning a little closer to him.

His smile warms as he approaches. He extends his arms toward me, offering the book when he is close enough. I reach out and take it, finding it to be heavier than I'd expected before placing it across my lap. "It's a photo album," Alfred explains as he pulls a chair up to sit beside me to my left, "It's from when Master Bruce was but a child."

My eyes widen with surprise and I drop my attention from Alfred back to my lap where my hands have already started to open the album's front cover. The first sight that greets me is a photograph of a newborn Bruce in the arms of Thomas Wayne. The facing page is a similar scene, Bruce in his mother's arms, Martha Wayne still in her bed, having just given birth.

I feel a great surge of emotions sweep over me. I sense the beginnings of tears in my eyes. Without realizing it, I lift my right hand to the page, my fingertips touching the thin sheet of plastic protecting the immortal image of Bruce and his mother.

I blink back my tears and quickly lift my hand to the corner of the page to turn it. I go through the album very slowly, resisting the urge to touch each picture and failing more often than not. Bruce as an infant, sleeping in his crib. More pictures of baby Bruce with his mother, with his father. Baby Bruce in a playpen with a toy duck clutched between his tiny hands.

The pictures continue and I slowly realize I'm watching the baby grow into a child. Bruce as a toddler, reaching up, his hand joined with his father's as he takes what must have been among his first steps. Another of him running, chasing a chipmunk through the yard.

"We all know the tragedy that befell Master Bruce and his parents. It is indeed why we are all together here today, but there is far more to remember about the late Mister and Missus Wayne than Master Bruce lets himself focus on," Alfred says, making me lift my head from the album to pay attention. My face falls, making me aware of the smile that was stuck on my lips. "Sometimes, Miss Diana, sometimes I worry that he has lost sight of what he truly lost, that his war with Gotham's underbelly is fueled only by the guilt and pain left behind.

"He may never feel the need to speak to you about his past, but I believe you have the right to know, if for no other reason than to give you a better idea of what you want for yourself and Master Bruce in the future."

I close my eyes, turn my head back to the photo album. Opening them again, I see my hand still in place over a picture of a young Bruce with his parents. It's a family photograph that has all three in nice clothing that speaks more of close family than formality and wealth.

I find myself easily imagining a similar set of photographs. Bruce and I sitting together with a daughter and a son seated in our laps. Two toddlers' first steps, two proud parents leading them along. The most powerful image to cross my mind is based on the first and with my left hand, I turn back to see the first photographs of Bruce again. Looking at them now, I see myself and Bruce in his parents' positions and newborns in the arms of two equally proud, but very different parents.

"I doubt very much that Master Bruce will appreciate me sharing this with you, but I asked you here to tell you a story from his first Christmas."

I lift my head again, wiping my eyes with my thumbs before closing the album and focusing myself on the old butler. He takes my attentiveness as a silent prompt. I smile as he looks up to the portrait and begins his tale.

"It happened the evening before Christmas, when Master Bruce was but a mere ten months old. His mother, the lovely Mrs. Martha Wayne, asked the young boy, 'Bruce, would you like to have some oranges?' and he responded with a carefree enthusiasm that this old house has sorely lacked since the Waynes' murders."

My smile fades and he gives a start as he realizes what he said. I don't want him to let the slip stop him. "It's alright, Alfred, please continue."

"Yes, of course. Forgive me for souring the mood." I nod my head slowly and relax back into my chair as he begins to speak again.

"I moved the platter of sliced oranges away from the center of the table, setting it squarely within reach of the innocent lad. We watched with amusement and joy as Master Bruce plucked slice after slice from the dish. After taking his third or fourth slice, Master Thomas was reminded of a tale from his own youth and shared it with the table.

"Master Bruce, it seemed, decided he's had enough partway through his father's tale. Even at that tender age, he was an enterprising child, one who would rather find his own way down from his chair than interrupt his father to ask for a helping hand.

"He left the dining hall, leaving Master Thomas to finish. When he was done, we talked and entertained one another with more tales of the past for nearly an hour. Finally, as she reached for the last orange slice left on the platter, Martha wondered aloud, 'Where did Bruce wander off to?'

"We all left the dining hall and paused for a moment in the foyer. Master Thomas offered to check the living room and the wing beyond, Martha took the rest of the downstairs, and I elected to look upstairs, just in case the young master had decided to go for a climb.

"I reached the top of the stairs and saw no sign of the boy. Just as I was beginning down the hall towards the bedrooms to check for any doors left slightly ajar, Master Thomas called out from the foyer to report that he had found our elusive quarry.

"The three of us met again in the foyer and walked together into the living room, where Master Bruce hid in plain sight. He was asleep, laying face-down in the middle of the floor." A laugh threatens to break my silence, but I suppress it with a broadening smile. "Miss Martha could not help herself and laughed, which unfortunately woke the oblivious boy.

"Awake, but still unaware of his audience, Master Bruce sat up. He was turned just enough for us to see that his mouth was moving and he very much seemed to be chewing." I raise a curious eyebrow as another laugh tries to escape me.

"Master Thomas was the first to chuckle this time, finally alerting the toddler to our presence. Without a care in the world for his appearance, young Bruce turned his head back to where we stood at the end of the hall. Immediately, we all began to laugh uncontrollably."

I tip my chin up and to my right as curiosity alights my expression once more. Alfred lifts his hands to his head, cupping them over either cheek. "His cheeks were _absolutely_ filled, like chipmunk or a squirrel carrying a mouthful of seeds, and we saw that he was indeed chewing." In an instant, my smile is back and I'm left barely able to contain another fit of laughter.

"Apparently, while we were all busy talking, he had taken two more slices without any of us noticing and stuffed them into his cheeks. He'd climbed out of his chair, left the room, and made it all the way to the living room to nap in peace without ever taking them out of his mouth, and then he'd waited until waking up before finally deciding it was time to eat."

My lower jaw begins to quiver and I bite the inside of my lower lip to keep from losing myself to laughter. Alfred is smiling from ear to ear as well, but it all falls away when we both hear Bruce calling Alfred's name from the doorway.

I turn my head slowly back to him, the laughter so close to the surface. I know it's going to be a mistake to even risk looking at him, but I feel myself bending to the compulsion from deep within all the same. "What?" he asks, probably a little worried by my mirth.

I lift a hand to my mouth, but the dam bursts. It falls away as I begin to laugh. Bruce's expression hardens and my laughter grows. I only get worse when I imagine Bruce, as an adult as he stands before us now, with cheeks full of oranges, chewing leisurely.

I'm not sure how long Bruce lets me continue to laugh before he approaches. It doesn't really register in my mind when I see him glance down at the photo album in my lap and I only barely notice his grimace before he leans forward and lifts his hands to the arms of the chair.

I begin to calm when I see Bruce's eyes meet mine again. A few seconds later, I feel his finger on my chin. My laughter stops abruptly, giving him the chance and he pounces on it, taking my lips with an arresting passion. I give a short moan in appreciation as I begin to return his kiss before lifting my hands to Bruce's on the chair's left arm and near my chin.

Without warning, he pulls his lips away and I find myself chasing after him for a few inches before falling back into my chair. "Now, what was so funny?" he asks, making me realize his kiss was merely meant to quiet me. Still, I can't find the will to hold it against him.

I smile knowingly, my good humor from only moments ago replaced by a streak of mischievousness. I puff up my own cheeks and pretend to chew, all while my smile transforms into something a little more teasingly sinister.

His eyes widen. I stop and my grin becomes a little more lopsided. "Alfred…" he begins while slowly turning his head to the not-so-innocent man still seated beside me, "Tell me you didn't."

"I believe someone should have, sir." He drops his voice. "You certainly didn't seem inclined."

"…Because it isn't important…and what's this?" He pauses, picks the album up from my lap. Unthinkingly, my hands reach out as if to protect it. "My baby book?"

"It's a photo album your parents put together for as long as they watched you grow. You may feel yourself to have outgrown such things, but if nothing else, memories of your youth seem to have brightened your fiancée's day."

Bruce stops at that. He returns the album to me and his hand returns to the chair's arm. He drops his chin back down to his collar and gives a long exhale, seeming to lean more heavily on his hands while I put the album back into my lap. I lift my hands to his, rub gently. After a few moments, he lifts his head and I can see the change in his attitude. He's gazing apologetically into my eyes.

"Sorry, Diana. Just…promise me you'll keep it to yourself. More importantly, don't tell anyone in the League."

I pout, playfully and teasingly. Bruce's expression hardens. He won't budge on this. "Fine. I won't talk to anyone about you falling asleep with a mouthful of fruit." My disappointment is just as much of an act.

"Thank you." He leans forward again, gives me another short kiss. "Now, how was your day?" I can only guess he's taken a hint from Alfred's words. He leans back, stands up and turns away, then retrieves a small footstool to sit on in front of me.

Alfred excuses himself just before I launch into my tale. I explain to Bruce my day with the League. I watch him as he listens, happy to see him paying attention to my story. Unfortunately, replacing Alfred's story from Bruce's early childhood with my memories of the day dampens my mood.

"Do you want me to have a talk with Kent about leaving you to do all the work?" he deadpans.

"What? No!" I sigh. "I guess I just would have liked having a little more variation to my day."

A smile flashes across his lips. It doesn't last more than a moment as he lifts his head and turns his attention towards the doorway. "I think I have something that may help with that."

I groan, lean over my left arm as I put my elbow against the chair's arm. "If it isn't time to sit down for dinner or you joining me on either a couch or a big enough chair to relax, then I don't want any."

Bruce looks at me a moment with surprise, then begins to laugh. I narrow my eyes at him and groan again. He lifts his hands, gestures for me to calm. "Alright, I'll save it for later. Let's go see what Alfred has in store for this evening.

"You've convinced me," I reply as I straighten and lift myself from the chair.

Bruce meets me as I stand. His arms close around me in a gentle embrace that I decide I actually _do_ want the moment he pulls me in. Our eyes lock and I smile for him as I lift my hands to his back.

He leans in for a quick kiss. He makes to lean back, but I lift my hands behind his shoulders and pull him back. "A close third?"

I laugh in reply and close my eyes while resting my forehead against his. "It'll do."

We remain still and silent for at least a few minutes. Eventually, Bruce lets his hands begin to roam my back comfortingly. I let myself relax for a short while longer before lifting my chin and taking my turn at kissing him. His hands come to rest on the sides of my waist and he replies to my kiss for nearly a second before pausing and kissing me again.

He continues and I quickly begin to follow his lead. I leave my eyes closed as we buss, curious about his expression, but unwilling to risk breaking the magic. My hands feel rooted in place against him, his equally still on me.

It's surprisingly heartwarming. The stillness lets me focus. The pauses give us both a moment to breathe unhindered, a quick second to calm. It's as if there's not an ounce of lust behind his lips, only love.

On and on it goes. I inhale through parted lips. I lift my chin until his lips meet mine again. A gentle warmth against my cheek as we both begin to exhale. Below, our lips stay together for one…two…three gentle kisses. Separation. The end of an exhale and my lungs fill as I breathe in and we begin once again.

Eventually, we draw our kiss to a close. I open my eyes quickly enough to watch Bruce do the same as we stand straighter. "I thought we were going to check on Alfred."

Bruce smirks for a brief moment. "So did I." He releases me abruptly, stepping back to put some distance between us. Before I can even drop my hands back to my sides, he adds, "I don't know what's holding _you_ up, but I'm going to find him. You're welcome to wait here if you still have other things to do."

"Hey!" I reply with a laugh as he begins walking away.

We arrive a bit too early for dinner, though Alfred doesn't seem terribly disappointed by our apparent impatience. From there, we head for the library. I immediately go to the end table beside the chair I used the last time I was here.

I pay Bruce little attention as he sits down beside me and let the smile take over my expression. _Wanda Hickey's Night of Golden Memories: And Other Disasters_ by Jean Shepherd. Bruce had dropped the book into my lap before going out on patrol the night before, had called it "required reading", but the title didn't exactly inspire interest.

Just before going to bed, I'd finally given it a chance. After slogging through a flurry of words I eventually recognized were being spoken with a heavy accent, I began to laugh from only the second page. The narrator, who I assume to be the titular Wanda Hickey, sent me into a boisterous fit upon describing her father's predilection for sleep. I couldn't help but to think of Bruce. Wanda seemed to be speaking specifically of Bruce by noting that "some look upon sleep as an unfortunately necessary interruption of life". There was, of course, another line that I knew I would need to remember for later, when Bruce was around.

It hadn't taken more than three minutes of constant laughter for Alfred to arrive, fearing that the manor had been attacked by the Joker and that he'd released his eponymous toxin within its walls. As soon as I saw him, I took advantage of his presence to ask what "HOOIICKK-PATOOOEY!" was supposed to mean. His eyes had widened almost immediately and he asked me what on Earth I was reading.

After telling him the title of my book, he'd relaxed somewhat, but still seemed a little flustered. I asked what was wrong and he finally answered that it was the onomatopoeia for the act of expectorating. It didn't take long for it to click in my mind. I'd then asked if Alfred had read the book yet and he explained the connection between my book, _In God We Trust: All Others Pay Cash_ by the same author, and a family movie called _A Christmas Story_. For the second time in nearly as many minutes, it clicked in my mind. I recalled Bruce's abbreviated explanation for Alfred's mention of a smiling duck when we were all in Metropolis for Lois's interview.

I hadn't been able to read much more, reminded as I was by Alfred's initial panic that it was getting quite late, and had retired when I was still only a few pages into the book. At last given another opportunity to read, I begin right in on an exploration of the Bumpus family's use of thousands of jugs and copper tubing.

It doesn't take but a few more sentences before I laugh again. I see Bruce look at me with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. I quickly collect myself and answer him with a short passage, "Wanda is talking about a smell coming from the house next door, which 'got so bad at times that starlings would sit around on the telephone wires back of the Bumpus house, just breathing deeply and falling off into the bushes and squawking. From time to time, there would be a dull explosion in the cellar, and a Bumpus would run out of the house with his overalls on fire'."

It's an odd sense of accomplishment I feel when Bruce smirks and shakes his head. He lifts his head a moment later, turning to me. "The narrator isn't named Wanda Hickey, you know."

And it all falls away. "What?"

Bruce nods. "She's a character, but the title of the book is also the title of its last chapter. The 'other disasters' are the other chapters beforehand."

"Well, then who…"

"If I remember right, he's never named, but the family and their butler in one of the latter chapters do refer to him as Shepherd, so it's safe to say Jean Shepherd himself."

"Oh." I give a contemplative hum and shake my head while returning to the text. _'And here I thought I was reading about a girl's youth.'_

Fortunately, with my own misunderstanding behind me, I quickly rediscover the book's humor as I resume my read. Before too long, I reach the end of the chapter, wonder for a moment what the old man might have planned for his revenge against the Bumpuses, and then a little note to self comes back to mind.

I quickly flip back to the first pages and quickly relocate the scene on the old man and sleep. I read the paragraph again, then turn to Bruce as a devilish grin lifts the corners of my mouth. "Say, Bruce…" I begin, leaning away and propping my chin up with my elbow on the arm of the couch to my right. He looks back presently. "What do you think about sleep?"

"Meaning?"

"Do you enjoy it?"

"I get as much as I need."

I hear a sharp humph from my right. "Hardly." Bruce and I turn towards the doorway at the new voice. Alfred, of course, and with unfortunately perfect timing, too.

"Yes, Alfred?" I almost laugh at Bruce's hasty attempt to change the subject.

Alfred notices it, too. He does a better job, but I still see him smile before he evens his expression. "Yes, of course. Dinner is ready to serve."

Bruce rises. I follow him to my feet, setting my book back down on the end table and promising myself to ask Bruce how fulfilling a part of his life sleep is. The three of us walk together back to the dining hall. Before long, we're seated along with Tim at the table, all of us ready and, at least judging by my own thoughts, anxious to eat.

Alfred does not disappoint. Tonight's menu is veal. We may as well be eating at a gourmet restaurant. In a way, we almost are, but with a vastly greater salary going to the cook. Fittingly so, taking into consideration his multitude of duties about the manor, though I occasionally wonder if he has ever felt himself underpaid.

As Alfred clears the table, Tim turns to Bruce. "So, Bruce, have you told her yet?"

Bruce replies with a silencing glance. "Told me what?" I ask when it is apparent Bruce will not say anything.

He looks across the table at me and gives a small moan of displeasure. "It's ready," he finally says.

"What is?"

"Your suit." He folds his arms between his stomach and the edge of the table. "I tried to tell you beforehand, but you didn't seem interested."

My mind catches on his answer and I miss his explanation. Almost before he finishes, I bolt to my feet, leaning over the table with my hands flat on its surface. "_Really?_" I ask with excitement enough to push all else from my mind.

Bruce nods and that's all the answer I need. I'm halfway to the hallway before Bruce and Tim are even out of their seats. By the time I reach the study, my hands are quivering. At the moment, I don't even care about putting the suit on, my mind is too occupied with the mere prospect of _seeing_ it.

Bruce catches up to me while I'm still fiddling with the grandfather clock's hands. He gently brushes past me and graciously opens the concealed door for me. He turns back to me before I can make my way past him and lifts his hands to my shoulders, pressing downward in an effort to calm me. I'm a little surprised to find it working.

He takes my hand, leads me slowly into the Batcave. His pace is painstakingly, deliberately, almost infuriatingly slow. We walk up along the row of display cases. We pass Bruce's Batsuit first. Tim's Robin suit is next. An empty case for Barbara's Batsuit, which she must have with her. The next case is dark and I stop to stare into the pitch.

Bruce reaches up to a small panel atop the case. He flips a small switch and light floods the glass-enclosed chamber. I'm awestruck. I can't even think of why. I already have an outfit, a name the world knows me by—it's how the world instantly recognizes me as Wonder Woman, it's how I tie my identity back to my heritage. _'But this, in an important way much different from our still-pending wedding…'_ I pause, take a deep breath. "It's perfect," I tell Bruce as I stare into the case at the black bat on _my_ _suit's_ chest. _'…will help me belong.'_

"Would you like to try it on?" he asks.

_'As if he needs to…'_ I nod enthusiastically, then step back as Bruce opens the glass door.

He stays ahead of me, blocking my view as he removes the suit from the case. Eventually, he turns back to me with a pile of fabric, boots, and gloves in both hands, the yellow of the utility belt on top a stunning contrast to the colors below, gray and a blue so deep, so very dark that it may as well be black.

He hands it to me and I stare for nearly a minute before I realize Bruce told me where I can change with privacy. Finally, I lift my head and turn to a manmade wall. I enter the door on it as I notice it's adjacent to the cave's underground training gym. Entering this second room, I see it's a sort of locker room, with showers and an attached bathroom.

After placing my new suit down on a bench, I quickly strip out of my casual civilian clothing, leaving myself in only my undergarments as I pile the rest of my clothes nearby on the other end of the bench. Next, I spread the parts of the suit out, separating it into an order that makes sense as I pick what to put on first.

The pants win the pick. I lift them by the waist and the legs fall, unfolding with gravity. Dark gray that will reach all the way down to my ankles and a patch of black, the shape resembling legless bloomers with the same cut as the blue in my Wonder Woman outfit. The skintight material is a tight fit, but I manage to pull the waist of the pants all the way up without a fight.

I pick up the shirt next, holding it by the shoulders as it, like the pants before, unfolds in my hands. I notice the toothless smirk on my lips as my eyes are again drawn to the iconic black bat that spans the material that will soon cover my breasts. The rest of the shirt around the bat is a gray that matches the pants.

My first attempt to put it on proves a failure. I remove my bra before making my second, more successful attempt to don the article. It's as tight a fit as the pants are. This time, I notice that, as snug and as heavy as it is, the material seems to breathe quite well.

I turn my attention to the cape and hood of my cowl next. The hood and the whole of my cape, inside and out, are all the same shade of near black as the exterior of Bruce's cape. I lift my cape and fasten it around the neck of my shirt, leaving the material to hang over my shoulders behind me, for now at least.

The pointy-eared hood of the cowl is next. I close my eyes for a moment as I pull the hood down. I line the white lenses up and pull the material tight across the underside of my jaw before fastening the front and sides of the hood to the cape and shirt. Before fastening the back of the hood, I reach back, pull lock after lock of my long hair through a small hole in the back of the hood, which styles my hair into a low ponytail.

Before I turn to the gloves and boots, I notice something about my lenses. I can see around them. There's a cavity around my eyes. I quickly realize something is missing, like the optical systems I saw melted into Bruce's eyes in my nightmarish dream, but I saw no items which could fit into the gap. _'I'll have to wait and ask Bruce when I'm done.'_

Moving on, I sit on the bench, quite aware of the material as it moves with me and bend each joint. I arrange my boots in front of me and slip my feet inside, feeling their tight grip above my ankles and around my shins. I'm sure that no mere mud will be able to pull them free accidentally.

My gloves are next, though I quickly realize they are much less simple gloves and more like armored gauntlets. The attached vambraces are largely hollow and, as I slip one and then the other arm all the way down into the fingers of the gauntlets, I realize that the cavities are to conceal and more comfortably house my own bracelets.

Nearly done, I reach back to the bench for the sole item left: the utility belt. I spend a few moments examining the ends of the belt before wrapping it around my waist and fastening it. After quickly centering the bat emblem on the belt's buckle, I turn around, looking for something reflective enough to let me look myself over.

I find a mirrored surface across the room and quickly approach it. My anticipation builds as I get closer and closer, prevented by angles from seeing myself until I'm right in front of it. I see anxious curiosity on the Batwoman in the mirror's lips quickly fade, replaced by a satisfied grin. _'I look just like a female Batman!'_ It's not original by any stretch of the imagination, but it's exactly what I wanted.

I lift my hands to my shoulders, pull my nearly floor-length cape forward enough to cover my shoulders. I drop my arms back down, interested as I watch the scallops on my vambraces pull the edges of my cape back, keeping most of my arms and body exposed. A twist of the wrists and a quick motion of my arms and the cape comes free, the edges coming together in front of me.

After a moment, I lift my attention back to the exposed lower face of the Batwoman in the mirror. I again take note of her smirk, then stop. _'It might take some getting used to before the reality that it's me under all that sinks in.'_

With a quick shake of my head and once last, long glance to admire my new appearance, I turn and exit back into the Batcave. I spot Tim and Bruce at the Batcomputer. Both are facing away, Bruce in his chair and Tim in the Robin suit beside him.

Hoping to test my idea for stealth, I lift my legs and take control of my altitude. I glide quickly across the floor, the toes of my boots just inches over the floor, my cape hanging even closer. I make it nearly to within ten feet of Bruce's chair and neither seem to have noticed my approach.

"Sorry, Diana. I heard the door when you came back out," Bruce then announces before he turns back with a swivel of his chair. I see he's wearing his Batsuit as well, though the hood of his cowl is pushed back to expose his head.

Tim turns back as well. I hover to a stop a couple feet away from Bruce, let my feet drop back to the floor. "Whoa, that's kind of creepy. I didn't hear you moving at all."

I nod my head to the teenager. "So, you think that'll work for sneaking around?" He nods in reply and I beam with pride.

I turn my attention to a less impressed Bruce. "So…" I split the cape with my fingertips, sweep both hands back to open it, and then catch the edges of the cape behind my elbows to keep it open, my scalloped vambraces ready to catch the cape in case its edges should slip. "…what do you think?"

"_Whoa_, that's kind of awesome."

Bruce clears his throat and looks askance at Tim.

"I-I mean it fits—" He interrupts himself with a sudden shake of the head. "I mean it looks…" He sighs, drops his chin to his collar and lowers his gaze to the floor as he begins to walk around me. "I'm just going to shut up and start my patrol."

He makes it half a dozen steps before Bruce speaks up. "Tim." The youth stops mid-step, turns back with a bit of curiosity and just a touch of apprehension. "Have you already forgotten what we discussed?"

He opens his mouth to speak. Nothing comes of the attempt and he turns from Bruce to me, then back to Bruce. "…No."

"What?" I ask.

Bruce ignores me, turning back to the Batcomputer. He presses a button on the massive console. "Batgirl, Robin and I are switching tonight. I'll be joining you on patrol soon."

"Got it, Batman," Barbara replies presently. I hear her breathing, a grunt of effort. "Sorry," she begins after what sounds very clearly like a brief struggle, "I was in the middle of something. Is that all?"

"Yes. I'll be on my way soon." He closes the channel a moment later and makes to stand.

My patience holds only until he's on his feet. "What about Tim? What about me?"

"You're both staying here." A pause to pull his hood back into place. "You've got work to do."

"Work? The work is in Gotham."

"True enough, but you need training before you're combat ready. You might as well begin tonight."

"_Training_? I am an _Amazon_!"

"It's not your fighting skills I'm calling into question." Bruce reaches back to the console, flips a switch on the underside. The Batcomputer's screen and all the lights in the Batcave go out. It only lasts a second before they come back on. "It's your stealth," I hear from behind me a moment after I notice that Tim reactivated the lights.

I spin back as quickly as I can, find myself looking at a cloud of dark gas. I swear I caught a glimpse of him and dash forward, into and through the smoke. I come out on the other side after a few moments, but Bruce is nowhere to be seen.

"Bruce?" I call out. A moment later, I feel my feet swept out from under me and I begin to fall to my left, helped along by a hand on my shoulder.

Before I can react, the hand slips around behind me, coming to rest on the back of my head as another hand finds my lower back. A bit of lift to counteract my fall and I stop inches from the ground. There's no point hiding my surprise, I realize, when I see Bruce's head above mine.

He leans down, gives me a kiss, holding his lips to mine for a little longer than I would have expected if I'd had more time to think about it. "Ok," I finally begin after he breaks our kiss, "I suppose some stealth training couldn't _hurt_."

"Good." He stands, bringing me back up to my feet at the same time. "You begin immediately. Tim and I will overlook your training, not to mention your studies."

"Wait, studies?"

"Of course, you'll need to begin reviewing the case histories of Gotham's most dangerous. We'll branch out from there, but they'll do for now. You'll need the knowledge before you'll be allowed to operate within Gotham."

"Really, Bruce?" I groan. _'I have a feeling this is only going to become more and more complex…'_

"My rules, Princess."

"Would you at least mind telling me what the rules _are_?" I'm _really_ beginning to remember how tired I am.

"Later. I'll explain the rules as they become most relevant. For now, just focus on Tim's lessons. Speaking of which, where'd he run off to?"

I squint, furrowing my brow behind the masking cowl. Turning around, I see that Tim has apparently vanished. "What? I didn't see him go anywhere…"

"Good. You have fifteen minutes to find him. Don't worry, he'll stay put where he is. He hides again and your timer is reset if you either give up or fail to find him."

Bruce begins a brisk walk to the Batmobile. "Good luck," he tells me as the canopy opens. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was patronizing me.

The Batmobile's canopy closes, its engine starting up with a roar a moment later. After a short pause, it speeds off as Bruce begins towards Gotham. I groan. This is _not_ how I imagined tonight going. _'I'm beginning to wish I'd just insisted on going to bed after dinner.'_

"Diana," comes Bruce's voice in my ears. For a moment, I think it's my League communicator, but I notice the audio in both ears.

"Bruce?" I ask aloud as I realize my caller.

"Just wanted to tell you that you look good in whatever you wear and, if you don't mind me saying, you look stunning in my colors."

I smirk. It's self-satisfied, probably vain, too, but I smirk. After a moment more, I explode with laughter. I brush Bruce's question off when he asks what I'm laughing at. _'Ok, maybe I can look forward to this with a bit of enthusiasm.'_

* * *

**Author's Note:** Reviews are welcome and appreciated, but certainly not required. Thank you for reading.


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